On Being Mrs Malfoy
by King in Yellow
Summary: Sequel to Hogwarts 1835, set in summer of 1836. Vivien Kestrel, beautiful daughter of a Diagon Alley seamstress, has dreams far above her station. She hopes to secure her future through marriage to the heir of the Malfoy fortune. All of her firsts in charms will not be enough to ensure that her plans will go smoothly on her visit to Malfoy Manor.
1. Measure for Measure

**Disclaimer**: Rowling presented seven years of a school which supposedly existed for centuries. Hogwarts 1835 had little from canon besides location. Hogwarts 1940 could serve as a prequel to the novels. This sequel to 1835 has little from canon but some family names and occasional locations which originate in Rowling's books. Similarities to any person, living are dead, with the characters in this story is an amazing coincidence.

Uh, if you've read Hogwarts 1835 these characters will be immediately familiar (at least if you have perfect, total recall). If you've not read it I hope they will emerge as distinct characters quickly.

I explain my approach to/ definition of canon at the chapter's end.

**Chapter 1 - Measure for Measure**

"Mother!" Vivien called as soon as she entered the shop on Diagon Alley, "I must have clothes if I'm going to be Mrs. Malfoy."

Mrs. Kestrel sighed, "How many owls have we exchanged on this subject? You have no chance of becoming Mrs. Malfoy, and I have paying customers I need to satisfy."

"When I'm Mrs. Malfoy you can close the shop. You need never work again."

"There's a pretty picture indeed. This shop has been my life longer than you've been alive. What am I to do all day? Sit around and eat chocolates? Or perhaps I'll spend my days visiting my friends here in the Diagon shops."

"You'll find things to do – whatever the wealthy do. The mother of Mrs. Malfoy can't be a seamstress in Diagon. And you mustn't spend your days here when I'm married."

"Oh dear then, if the mother of Mrs. Malfoy can not be a seamstress then I fear you shall not be Mrs. Malfoy. For I am certainly a seamstress."

"I'm to be at the Malfoys for a month. I must have clothes."

"You will."

"I must have clothes worthy of Mrs. Malfoy."

Mrs. Kestrel wished her daughter had a greater sense of reality. "Has young Claudius asked you to marry?"

"No."

"Is he likely to ask?"

"Claudius would not ask for any woman's hand. But he must marry. His father will see I am perfect for his son. I'm certain that is why Lizzy and I were invited to the Manor. I am perfectly willing to put up with all of Claudius's idiosyncrasies."

"And what idiosyncrasies would those be?"

Vivien smiled, "And one of the many reasons which makes me the perfect wife for Claudius is that I shall never say a word about him behind his back."

"You will have clothes for your trip. But you will not have all you demanded – and paying customers come first. You must recognize our station and the fact it is most unlikely that your dreams will happen."

The pretty witch scarcely heard her mother, "With father dead Mr. Malfoy must ask you for my hand. Please, promise that when he asks your permission you will tell him yes."

"I'll tell him yes, if he asks," Mrs. Kestrel promised her daughter – more to close the conversation than in any belief that the situation would ever arise. She tried to change the subject, "Is Miss Gray home?"

"I think she was staying a little longer at Hogwarts. Something came up, very much at the last minute, It had something to do with her cousin Robin teaching herbology and Lizzy would stay to help him prepare. I was too busy thinking of all I would need for my trip to the Malfoy's to pay proper attention."

"And I just remembered, the Grays bought a country home two years ago and are probably out of the city now."

"Shall the elves measure me now? I don't believe I am any different than last summer before I started my seventh year, but it would be good to make certain everything I need will fit."

"And I will remind you, once again, that customers with money in their pockets receive service before young women with dreams in their heads. If you want to work here in the shop or more at home to give the elves more time you might gain another outfit or two."

"When I'm Mrs. Malfoy I won't work as a seamstress."

"When you're Mrs. Malfoy you won't have to. But today you are Vivien Kestrel. This shop is Kestrel's, and there is a very good chance you will inherit it someday. It has kept a roof over our heads and food on our table. And I won't have you speaking it against it – or against your mother who runs the shop."

"I'm sorry," Vivien apologized, and gave her mother a hug. "You're wonderful. But I want more than this."

Her mother sighed, she had heard Vivien's dreams of improving her life through an advantageous marriage too often. Vivien was beautiful, but she was the daughter of a seamstress and men of the class into which she wanted to wed would see her as too far beneath them to propose marriage. Mrs. Kestrel hoped she had instilled values in her daughter which would prevent her from accepting a proposal of something less than marriage such men were likely of offer a beautiful young woman who dreamed of money. "Let the elves measure you now. Most of the regulars have their summer clothing and very few have thought of autumn yet."

Vivien stayed in the shop to pen a note to Elizabeth asking when they could begin their plans. While the Kestrels had no owl the woman with the chemist shop two doors down kept three for delivering packets of potion ingredients and often allowed Vivien or her mother to use one if there were no pressing deliveries. Unfortunately while the season was relatively slow at Kestrel's the apothecary was too busy to lend her the use of an owl. Vivien spent the rest of the day in her small home, pacing and fretting about what she would need in order to impress her future father-in-law. She told herself she did not need to be jealous about Elizabeth. Lizzy had no interest in Claudius, but her family wealth would make her appear a better possibility for his hand. Elizabeth would have more knowledge of country fashions – to the extent they differed from city fashion – that Vivien might need for her own plans. Vivien told herself she need have no concerns about Elizabeth, even as she continued feel jealousy towards Elizabeth.

Before Vivien could dispatch an owl Elizabeth Gray arrived at Kestrel's with the most terrible news in the world. "I am to marry Charles and be off for Russia as soon as possible! I need clothes for the trip."

"What!" While Elizabeth was not known for her sense of humor Vivien felt certain this must be a joke of some sort.

"He stopped at some shop for something," Elizabeth exclaimed, and gave her smaller friend a hug, "Isn't it wonderful? Congratulate us."

"Tell me you're joking! You and I are to spend a month with the Malfoys this summer."

"I am not joking. Mrs Pilton – and you must forget every evil word I said about her – arranged for me to accompany the Potter expedition, and suggested that Charles would confess his love if I applied moderate pressure."

"I hope you've not crippled him for life," Vivien muttered. "Can't you stay here and wait for him or something? I need you to go with me to the Malfoys. I can't go by myself."

"There were a couple witches in Hufflepuff you were friendly with... Ask Kitty; I know she has no plans for the summer."

"I can't just invite someone else! Mr. Malfoy invited the two of us."

"Well I shan't be able to go. Do you want me to write to him and ask if you may bring another friend with you?"

"That wouldn't be polite. It was the two of us who-"

"Do you want to spend a month with the Malfoys?"

"Yes."

"Then I will write. Any breach of etiquette will be on my head."

Vivien took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "I'm sorry, Lizzy, but this means so much to me I scarcely know what to think or do."

"I did suggest you congratulate me," Miss Gray reminded her.

"Yes. Yes, you did," Vivien responded and gave her friend a nervous hug. "Congratulations... I... Does... I wish the two of you well. When do you leave?"

"As soon as we can marry. Charles will see the bishop tomorrow for a license and... Clothes! I need clothes for the trip. Charles will be here in a minute to discuss what I will need for the journey and while his father does his work. I can't imagine there will be a Kestrel's in Russia."

"Clothes?"

"Of course. Why else would I be here? Except to inform you, of course. We haven't even told our parents yet. We will tell Charles' father this morning, and then out to the country for Charles to formally ask my father for my hand."

"So your father could say no?"

"You sound almost like you wish for my father to forbid the wedding."

"I'm sorry, it is simply all so sudden. I saw you and Charles becoming good friends last term I simply didn't expect-"

Whatever Vivien might or might not have expected was cut short by the arrival of Charles Potter who put an arm around Elizabeth's waist and pulled her to his side. Vivien was concerned that Lizzy didn't remind him such behavior was entirely inappropriate – at least until they had secured the blessing of their parents. But rather than raising the proper protest Elizabeth actually put her own arm around Charles.

"I was just telling Viv," Elizabeth told her new fiancé, "that you can give her mother some idea of what I will need. And, of course, it must be made as quickly as possible."

"Mother is out looking at fabric. Let me write out a list."

Much as Vivien loved her friend it was hard to feel joy for Miss Gray when Miss Kestrel felt her own plans for happiness collapsing in flames around her.

When the pair left the shop to inform his father of the change in plans Vivien looked over the list with a feeling of despair. Every elf in the shop would need to drop everything else for a week in order to _perhaps_ finish the clothing Lizzy needed by her likely departure date. Other customers would need to have their own orders delayed – which would push back Vivien's own wardrobe plans even longer. Her mother would probably argue that the Grays should pay extra for the inconvenience of short notice – and Vivien would need to remind her mother that the Grays were steady customers and Elizabeth a dear friend.

* * *

Only later was Elizabeth able to share the full story of the parents' reactions with Vivien.

Professor Potter, fretting to leave, was equal parts happy for his son and irritated by the further delay. "Why didn't you propose a month ago?" he demanded of his son. "We could be well on our way by now."

Mr. Gray, who had contemplated his daughter's marriage as a good thing on a philosophical level for some months found the actual prospect of losing her to travel for a few years a proposition of horror. Only after Elizabeth assured him of her desire to traipse off to the ends of the earth did he reluctantly consent. "At least he's a wizard and not some damn muggle."

Mrs. Gray had simply smiled at the news, "I had expected as much."

"How could you expect it?" Elizabeth demanded. "We didn't know it ourselves until this morning."

"It was quite obvious the two of you were interested in each other when you asked him to serve as a counterfeit fiancé."

"Mother! I asked him because we were _not_ interested in each other so there could be no misunderstanding by either of us."

"You were obviously interested," her mother insisted, "otherwise you would have shown more interest in John Gardiner."

* * *

Professor Potter obtained the license for the wedding and worked like a dervish to change the various plans which required alteration due to the addition of another member to the expedition.

Word reached London of Turk's elopement during the spring term. Both families were up-in-arms and vowed to find some way to have the marriage annulled. The couple were staying with a Lennox cousin in Edinburgh until one or the other families calmed down enough for rational conversation. Vivien was quite upset that Elizabeth had known of the elopement and said nothing to her.

"It was a secret!" Elizabeth protested.

"You should still have shared it with your dearest friend in the world!"

"And you would have told Peter, or Charlotte, or someone else and soon it would have been all over Hogwarts."

"Lizzy, I'm ashamed of you. You truly believe I would have told another soul?"

Elizabeth gave her friend a level stare for a few seconds. "You would truly have told no one?"

Vivien hesitated, "Fine, I would have let it slip. But I am still angry with you for not trusting me. I'll forgive you if you tell me everything you know about the elopement."

An owl to Elizabeth from Titus Malfoy offered congratulations on her nuptials and said that Vivien would be welcome at the Hall with any companion she wished.

Vivien received the news with joy. "He is nibbling at the hook," she told Elizabeth. "He is considering me as a wife for Claudius or he would have withdrawn the invitation."

"Or perhaps he is too polite to withdraw an invitation. Remember, nothing has been said of marriage. We were only invited as the friends of his son – not as wedding fodder."

"Nonsense. Claudius must be married, it is his duty. And his father will soon realize there could be no more suitable partner."

The letter from Kitty announced she had no plans for the summer and would be delighted to spend a month with the Malfoys. Actually Kitty had no particular plans for any time in the future. The Kellys were not a wealthy family, and had enough children that providing a dowry for their daughter Catherine might be a problem. A more affluent relative had funded the witch at Hogwarts – where she had failed to find a husband as her parents had wished. Her mother made it clear to Kitty that should any respectable wizard show any interest in her he would have the blessings of the family on him in asking for her hand – and in the meantime she was welcome to take any work which presented itself.

The Kelly family took pride in their ability with animals. It was possible that Titus Malfoy, with his many connections in the wizarding world, might be able to recommend Kitty to someone in need of the Kelly magic.

Vivien would much rather have had Elizabeth for her companion on the trip. Not only was Lizzy her dearest friend, but the Grays had some sense of life on an estate having purchased one a few years earlier. Catherine 'Kitty' Kelly knew life on a farm, which was not the same. Vivien didn't worry about anyone rivaling her in beauty, and Kitty with her broad, flat face, snub-nose, freckles, and red hair would appear drab in comparison. Kitty's problems were twofold. First her manners might be so inferior to the demands of good society that Vivien might suffer from having her as a companion. Second, Kitty's temper was feared not only in Slytherin but in the other houses as well and a cause of embarrassment for all Irish students at Hogwarts. The blonde witch prayed her friend could keep her temper under control.

The Grays returned to the City for the few days before the wedding. There was more for everyone to do than seemed possible to accomplish in the time before the wedding and the Potters' departure from England. Elizabeth stopped at Kestrel's once or twice a day for any necessary fittings and to see how her trousseau was progressing.

The wedding ceremony was brief and, given the hurried nature of the arrangements, poorly attended – although all of the Fletchers were present. Immediately following the ceremony the Grays returned to the country, allowing Elizabeth and Charles to enjoy a few days of absolute privacy in their London home. It was not certain what sort of intimacy they would be able to enjoy during their travels and while staying in northern Asia.

The Kestrels and their shop elves worked long hours into the evening to insure everything was finished before the Potters left.

Vivien managed to a few private moments of conversation with Elizabeth when the couple came by to collect her purchases. "Will you ask your father if I can borrow your carriage for the trip to the Malfoys? It's not that far. I'm certain Geoffrey could make it in a day."

Elizabeth started to protest, Vivien could arrive by floo without inconveniencing her father who might need the carriage for himself, but realized how important it was to Vivien. "I'll ask," she sighed. She then opened her purse and looked inside, "And if Geoffrey drives you," she found a galleon and passed it over, "give this to him for his labor... What happened to your fingers?" she asked as Vivien took the coin.

"Out of practice with a needle, I fear," Vivien admitted. "When I'm Mrs. Malfoy I'll never touch a needle."

"Some ladies do very nice needlework."

"This lady will not. Wait a minute." Vivien went behind the counter and pulled out a small parcel, wrapped in paper and tied with string. "A nightgown. I sewed it myself. I know it isn't much but–"

"But I'm certain it is wonderful," Elizabeth said and gave her friend a hug. "Promise me you will write and give me all the news and gossip."

"I promise. But remember, you must write me so that I shall know where to send my letters. And I'll pay you back the galleon when I become Mrs. Malfoy – and all the money I've borrowed."

"I told you, you don't owe me anything."

"I won't be as stubborn as Charles, but I will pay you back when I can. Promise me you won't be as stubborn with me as you were with him."

"I'll try," Elizabeth promised. "And I'll miss you very much. I pray you find someone who will make you as happy as I feel right now."

The two friends hugged, "All I want is to be out of this shop," Vivien assured her. "That is all the happiness I need."

The Potters left London the next day. With the various delays in setting out Professor Potter now planned to spend the winter in Moscow before moving further east the following spring. In Diagon Alley Kestrel's remained closed one day so the mother, daughter, and the shop elves could catch up on sleep lost during the rush to finish Elizabeth's order.

* * *

Marriage laws changed in England and Wales later in 1836. For years the only groups allowed to perform marriages outside the Church of England were Quakers and Jews. Most marriages were solemnized by publishing the bans. For three consecutive weeks the local parish minister announced the intention of the couple to marry. If no valid objections were made against the marriage or other impediments found during the period the couple was considered married at the end of the three weeks. It was considered marriage on the cheap. A common license, purchased from your Bishop, allowed a marriage ceremony in your local parish immediately. A special license, purchased from an Archbishop, allowed you to have a marriage ceremony anywhere. This is why so many couples eloped to Scotland, where you told a witness you were married and *BAM* you were married. (Gretna Green, first village in Scotland on a main coach road from England became a solid fixture for hurried marriage/elopement in English novels.)

**Authorial Disclaimer**: Imablack, my canon-checker, predicts I'll get grief from reviewers for not taking Pottermore as canon. I take the novels as canon. Period. I try to take even the novels' large improbables as canon (Rowling included details meant to be humorous for their absurdity) - and attempt plausible back-stories for some of them in Hogwarts 1940. Some of the things characters say in the novels I take to be jokes - as I believe Rowling intended them to be. I won't list my objections to Pottermore, and I don't use it. The novels provide no clear picture of the wizarding economy.  
**My canon**: The wizarding and muggle worlds were once closely connected, with wizards recognized as craftsmen extraordinaire. They tended to see themselves as above muggles, but there were no firm barriers between them. Small wizarding communities existed across the country, usually near muggle cities where the consumers who wanted magically made goods lived. (The muggles would not have known how the wizards produced the goods - guild secrets were the order of the day.) In era of the scientific revolution and proto-industrialization (17th/18th centuries) the importance of wizard tech diminished in the muggle world, and once industrialization hit (19th century) wizards no longer had a real role in the national economy. With the shifting demographics of the era some of the wizarding communities disappeared as the muggle centers they had served lost population. Other villages, such as Diagon, were engulfed by the growing metropolitan centers. The reduction in status, from being the valued centers of national life to being marginalized and no longer necessary created a resentment among some which made the rise of Voldemort possible.  
Don't expect anyone to spout Voldemort ideology in this. That would be like expecting someone in 1790s Württemberg to hold Adolf Hitler's Nazi views. Hitler talked about a 'pure Aryan race' but it was nonsense. I believe it is Dumbledore in the novels who says Voldemort's followers claiming they are "pure-bloods" is nonsense. I take that statement as canon. The Malfoys were not proto-Voldemorts. A manor is an estate, and applied to the home of the lord of the manor. Depending on other features the home might also be a house, court, hall, park or a grange. I will refer to either Malfoy Manor or Malfoy Hall. A manor has workers - serfs in an earlier period, peasants later, and finally tenants. You would not have had wizard serfs, so muggles work the Malfoy lands. If you have muggle serfs/peasants/tenets you need human servants to deal with them - can't send house elves out. These servants could be either muggles (who might or might not realize the lord of the manor was a wizard) or squibs. Don't project the prejudices of Voldemort's followers on an earlier era (even if characters in the novel do) when the novels themselves declare that wasn't true.


	2. King John

**Disclaimer**: Rowling presented seven years of a school which was supposed to have existed for centuries. Hogwarts 1835 had little from canon besides location. Hogwarts 1940 could serve as a prequel to the novels. This sequel to 1835 has little from canon but a few family names and a location or two, but those are from Rowling's books. Similarities to any person, living are dead, with the characters in this story is an amazing coincidence and/or happy accident.

My parameters for what constitutes canon are defined at the end of chapter one.

**Chapter 2 – ****King John****  
**

Vivien was surprised with how quickly she received her first note from Elizabeth, and somewhat disappointed it felt so thin. Opening the letter revealed the reason for its quick dispatch and brevity.

_Viv,  
We crossed the Channel without incident.  
I am writing this from Paris, but we won't  
stay long before we continue on. Send any  
letter to the home of Claudia Stolz, we will  
be there for several days. If you love me,  
please find a good charm, or potion, to help  
a snoring problem. While I love Charles dearly  
his nose promises to cost me a great deal of  
sleep. If you can bring me any sort of relief  
I am quite certain you will save my sanity.  
Much love,  
Lizzy_

Vivien sent her reply and then began her own frantic preparations for a wardrobe capable of impressing the Malfoys. She was both anxious to be off and further her plans, while wishing she had more time to prepare. Despite her misgivings in regard to her daughter's plans Mrs Kestrel helped Vivien in her preparations for a month at Malfoy Manor.

Kitty and Vivien arrived at the Gray country home the night before their travel to Malfoy Hall. Vivien felt a sense of shock at how little in way of clothing Kitty was bringing for a one month stay that was only equaled by the sense of shock Kitty felt when she saw how much Vivien had packed for the visit. They left early and arrived at their destination in the late afternoon.

Vivien wondered if their host should have come outside to help them down from the carriage – she had intended for Titus Malfoy see her hand Geoffrey the galleon as a way of showing her family wealth. She hoped whatever manservant it was who helped them with their luggage would see it and report to his master. Kitty wondered where Vivien had obtained a galleon, but said nothing aloud. Vivien could not be certain the tall and stolid manservant even witnessed the transaction.

The servant showed them to their rooms and offered apologies from his master for not being there to greet them on their arrival. Titus Malfoy was engaged in estate business and expected home at six. Dinner would be at seven-thirty. And Claudius, who should have welcomed them, could probably be found in the library. The servant did not say Claudius should have been greeted them, but Kitty felt it would have been appropriate.

It took Miss Kelly less than five minutes to put away the few articles of clothing she had brought. The Irish girl then went to the room next door and sat on the bed watching as Miss Kestrel carefully hung dresses in the wardrobe, applying charms to smooth out any wrinkles which had dared intrude on her clothing.

"We should find the stable," Kitty suggested. "Place like this probably keeps a number of horses. Bet he has hounds too."

"We should find the library. We need to see Claudius."

"Seems to me he's the one who needs to see us."

"Perhaps the servants didn't tell him of our arrival."

"Perhaps he didn't care. You go to the library, I'm going out back."

"We are guests. We don't go out to look at animals the moment we arrive."

It took them a few minute to find the library in the large house. Claudius sat in a wing chair, reading as they entered. To one side of the huge room a scarecrow of a young man sat at a library table stacked with books and appeared to be writing something in the limited space still available on the table.

Claudius looked up, "Ah. Gordon told me you'd arrived. I trust he showed you your rooms. I should have greeted you, but assumed he'd show you your rooms and you didn't need me to watch you unpack." He returned to his book. "That's Matthias back there. Works for my father. Dull chap."

Vivien tried to engage her intended husband in conversation, but while he answered her questions it was seldom with more than a monosyllable and he never took his eyes from what he was reading.

Kitty, growing bored, addressed the other man. "He said Matthias?"

"Yes. Matthias Prewett"

"Hufflepuff? Someone who looked a bit like you took first in history at Hogwarts our first or second year."

"I don't know when you entered Hogwarts, but I took firsts in history every year I was there."

"You do realize you've graduated, right? You don't have to keep writing papers," Kitty laughed, pointing at the piles of books and the parchment.

He pushed up the glasses which had slid down his thin nose, and they once again began the long, slow slide in their effort to escape his face. "Research. Mr. Malfoy and I are considering books on curses and a history of the dark arts. The library here is quite amazing."

"So, you're a guest too?"

Claudius did not look up from his book, "No, he's not."

"My status isn't clear," young Mr. Prewett admitted. "I was hired to catalog the books and magical objects here after leaving Hogwarts, but I'm more of a secretary now. And if Mr. Malfoy and I are to collaborate-"

"And ever since my father allowed him to dine with him Matthias has taken on airs and now considers himself a guest," Claudius threw in.

Mr. Prewett considered telling the ladies that Claudius was in a poor mood, having been ordered to stay at home and greet the guests on their arrival while his father managed estate business. It could, however, be seen as an accusation that Claudius had failed as a host – and even if that were true it would not be expedient for him to bring up the subject.

Claudius devoted his attention to his book. Kitty, anxious for any sort of conversation moved toward Mr. Prewett to quiz him about horses and hounds on the estate, and Vivien walked slowly around the room, marveling at the size of the collection and wondering how long it would be until she was mistress of the manor.

Titus Malfoy found them in the library when he arrived home, earlier than expected and full of apologies for having failed as a host.

The reaction of Kitty, on first seeing her host, mirrored the experience of Miss Kestrel and Miss Gray when they met Titus Malfoy at Hogwarts. She looked back and forth between them and thought they did not look like father and son. There was a strong similarity of features, the same chestnut hair and look of intelligence in their brown eyes. But Claudius, through habits of dissipation, weighed more than he ought and looked older than his eighteen years. Except for the sprinkling of gray hair at his temples the careful diet and regular exercise Titus Malfoy enjoyed resulted his appearing younger than his years. They were likely to be mistaken for brothers.

At seven Mr. Malfoy announced it was time to dress for dinner. Kitty wasn't sure what her host meant. They were already dressed. She couldn't imagine anyone going undressed to dinner. She washed her face and hands to rid herself from any dust from the road and brushed her hair for a few minutes before going into Vivien's room. "Is there a ball or something?" Kitty asked in wonder. "I thought we were just eating dinner."

"We are," Vivien assured her. "Help button me up in back. I'm too nervous to do the charm correctly."

"Then why are you dressed for a ball?" Kitty continued, moving behind Vivien to help with the buttons.

"I'm not dressed for a ball. I'm dressed for dinner. We're at a very fine home. People dress well for dinner. You need to dress."

"I am dressed."

"Those are the clothes you arrived in. You must change."

"These are the clothes I'll eat dinner in. I won't be changing clothes for every hour or every meal."

"You'll embarrass me," Vivien muttered.

If Kitty harbored suspicions of Vivien's motives they were confirmed by the comment. "So... Who are you trying to impress? We just met Mr. Prewett. Mr. Malfoy?"

Vivien chewed her lip nervously for a few seconds. She needed a confidant. "Claudius, of course."

"Claude? You think he's got any interest in you?"

"He needs to be married. Who would make a better Mrs. Malfoy?"

"A woman who actually cared for him... Not sure that makes sense. I can't see him giving a fig about any woman."

"Exactly. And I know that going into marriage. I'll give him his freedom and I will receive the security of being his wife."

"Neither of you could make the other happy."

"Security is the only happiness I need," Vivien argued.

If Kitty were under-dressed for dinner it went without comment. Vivien realized she was terribly over-dressed when the two entered the dining room. Their host said nothing out of politeness, but Claudius snickered, "I fear it's just family tonight, Viv. Did father neglect to mention the Archbishop of Canterbury wrote to say he couldn't make it?"

"Perhaps I should have asked a special meal be prepared," Titus Malfoy half-apologized as they began their meal. "But I thought it might be more appropriate, since you will be here for a few weeks, to see a normal dinner."

"This isn't a special meal?" Kitty asked in disbelief as she looked around her.

"I suspect Kitty regards any meal with a variety beyond potatoes as fine dining," Claudius mentioned to Mr. Prewett.

Titus glared at his son for his rudeness, and Kitty tried to kick him – but the width of the table prevented her from making contact. Claudius had expected the reaction, and watched for it. He gave her an amused smile when she failed.

Not knowing the rules of society Kitty asked her host about the large, wooden faced man who had met them at their arrival and now waited on them at dinner. "I think someone said his name was Gordon," she added at the end of the question.

"Gordon Sloper," Mr. Malfoy explained. "His sister works here as well. The Slopers have served the Malfoys for generations. In our position we have occasion muggle guests and... As I think about it, I may reflect some of my father's prejudices. For some reason he couldn't abide seeing a house elf in the dining room. He preferred not seeing them at all and avoided those parts of the house where he was most likely to find one. It would seem almost unnatural to me to see one serving here."

"Perhaps some whist after supper," Titus suggested to his son during the final course. "You may have Miss Kestrel as your partner."

"I'm going out," Claudius told him. "You said if I stayed home this afternoon I'd be free to leave this evening."

"I expected you to greet our guests and welcome them to our home."

"They aren't guests. They're old friends from school."

"They are guests in our home and must be shown every courtesy."

"Gordon didn't tell me when they arrived."

"Gordon didn't tell you? I find that very hard to believe – the man is too scrupulous in observing his duties." He turned to Mr. Prewett, "Tell me, Matthias, did Gordon inform my son when these young women arrived?"

The skinny man fidgeted, not wanting to upset the father, but not wanting to lie. "I… I was very engaged in my work. I could have… I wasn't always in the library, Gordon might… I don't know." Distinctly uncomfortable he turned to Kitty and tried to change the conversation, "Did you know that Mr. Malfoy is actually a baron?"

"No," Kitty answered, "really."

"I am not certain you need to relate my family history," Mr. Malfoy interjected.

"Oh let him ramble on," Claudius voted. "It delights him to hear his own voice, and even if you protest I know you have too much family pride to be denied hearing it told to others."

While Claudius hoped to anger the two men enough to avoid having to hear the story again Kitty and Vivien were too intrigued to leave the topic.

"Please," Kitty continued.

Matthias pushed up his glasses and began, "The family may have arrived with the Normans. The earliest reference I've found for the title, Marquis of Malfoy, dates to King John but could be earlier. Some claim the Marquis betrayed both John and the nobles before Runnymede. The title-"

"Family history," Mr. Malfoy interrupted, "has always preferred that he served as a negotiator between the sides and helped make the Charter possible."

"How does a marquis become a baron, and why isn't it more generally known?" Vivien wanted to know.

"The two facts may be related," Mr. Prewett suggested. "Some noble families were lost entirely during the War of the Roses when they didn't change sides quickly enough. The marquis of the time lost some of his land and was reduced to a baron. I suspect the loss of land and title are why the Malfoys make no mention of their title."

"Nonsense," Claudius argued. "It's a muggle title. I don't begrudge Sir William's knighthood. He helped all England – muggle and wizard – and deserves recognition. But baron is a muggle title handed down simply through accident of birth. Given the sorry blocks of wood holding most titles the 'honor' reflects nothing of intrinsic value. Father mentioned how prejudices are handed down in families like coats-of-arms and sets of silver. Some ancestor despised the muggle nature of the title and refused to let it be uttered in the house." He turned to Mr. Prewett, "There are Malfoys who would have had you horsewhipped for bringing up the subject. Father is much more tolerant. Sometimes he even takes his seat in Parliament during the winter, although I've never understood why. If he wanted to torture himself I'm certain we have some hair shirts in the collection down in the dungeon. They could be wonderfully painful without having the added of torture of listening to politicians ramble on."

"Torture collection?" Kitty asked nervously. "Dungeon?"

"Not used for generations," their host assured them. "My family has long been fascinated with the dark arts. We collect objects as well as books. Mr. Prewett began to catalog the contents of the dungeon for me, but had to give up. We weren't sure what some of the objects in the collection were. His hopes that, after working with the books in the library, he will be able to identify some of the more obscure items."

"I can show you the dungeon if you wish," Mr. Prewett offered in an excited tone.

"Matthias, you rogue," Claudius chuckled, "you are a charmer. What young woman could resist the invitation to go down to a damp dungeon and view instruments of torture and the dark arts?"

Mr. Prewett blushed crimson.

"Claudius," his father warned him sternly, "I do not allow guests to be insulted in my home."

"Is he a guest now? I find comfort in everyone knowing their place. I am unaccustomed to guests being paid. What wages are you offering Kitty and Viv?"

"Where are your manners? Miss Kestrel and Miss Kelly are your friends from Hogwarts. And you should have greeted them when they arrived today."

"No, they are your guests and you should have greeted them when they arrived today. Grandfather kept a reasonably good estate manager. Since mother died you've done more work about the place than your steward."

"A man should take an interest in his own property."

"A vast gulf yawns between interest and obsession. I see three possible motives for your behavior, none of which reflect favorably upon you."

Vivien and Mr. Prewett had the good sense to hope the matter dropped, but Kitty had too much curiosity.

"How can there be any bad motives for hard work?"

"He may think I'm lazy and hopes to set a good example for me, but watching him exhaust himself in unnecessary labors is hardly a good example. Or he might imagine I am incompetent and hopes to leave the property in a condition which will survive my mismanagement after his death. In either case, when I inherit I shall find a good steward and let him do the work he is paid for. The third choice is that he buries himself in work in honor of my mother's memory – which I hesitate to mention both because there would be nothing rational in such a motive and my mother does not approve."

"Does not approve? I thought your mother was dead."

"She is. I suppose I should say her portrait in the old nursery does not approve. Whichever one of you has designs on me might wish to consult her."

"Designs on you?" Kitty scoffed.

"Perhaps it is Viv then," Claudius suggested. "Or perhaps not in the minds of either of you and father asked you here to give me a choice."

"Your father loves you very much," Vivien told him. "He asked us here only as your friends from Slytherin."

Claudius clucked his tongue in disbelief, "You are many things, Viv, but I can't believe naïve is one of them." He turned to his father, "I respect the fact you do not lie. Can you tell me that there was no thought of matrimony in your mind when you invited Lizzy and Viv for a visit – or extended the invitation to Kitty here?"

The face of Titus Malfoy had darkened with anger. "This estate is your heritage, and there is work to be done here whether you appreciate the fact or not. You will now go to your room. You have insulted everyone at the table quite enough for this evening."

"I intend to go out. You promised me if I stayed in this afternoon I'd be free to leave this evening."

"I asked you to stay at home and greet our guests, which you failed to do."

"And I told you, I regard them as your guests – not our guests."

"And if you think you can sway my order with further impertinence you are mistaken. Go to your room."

Claudius remained seated for several seconds, looking like he wanted to speak, but no one uttered a word. Finally he rose silently from the table and stalked out of the dining room. Angry people do not always behave in their own best interests, but he recognized he was dependent on his father for funds and realized he had gone further than he should in voicing his displeasure.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence around the table before Kitty thought of a safe topic and asked about the Malfoy stables. Titus Malfoy invited the two women to go riding in the morning. When Vivien confessed to being an indifferent rider, and she was being generous with herself to claim that level of ability, Mr. Malfoy suggested a brown cob known for its gentleness. They were warned that the man in charge of the horses was a muggle and, unlike the Slopers, had no idea that the Malfoys were a wizard family.

"I thought you owned an aethonon," Kitty responded.

"I did at one time. An aethonon is not a practical mount and when the old stable master retired I felt no loss at selling it. The new stable master is young and I am withholding judgment about his abilities for the present. Old Will had years of experience that Clarence lacks so I will see whether he grows into the job."

"Do you hunt?" Kitty wanted to know. "I believe Viv said you and your wife hunted. Do you keep hounds?"

"Eight at the moment. This Saturday we'll take some over to a muggle neighbor. The hunting season won't begin until autumn but the hounds and horses need exercise and we sometimes follow a fox until it goes to ground. You are both welcome to ride with us."

"My sympathies are with the fox," Kitty told him. "But if there is a good ride involved I'm game."

Mr. Malfoy chuckled, "I believe my sympathies are with the fox as well. I had one when I was at Hogwarts – a gentle and devoted creature. But one must maintain good relations with one's neighbors, even if they are muggles and love the hunt. Mrs. Malfoy always enjoyed the ride and the fresh air more than the kill."

"I would be delighted to accompany you," Vivien offered with no sense of what level of skill was required in terms of horsemanship. She wanted to make a favorable impression on the man she saw as her future father-in-law.

"We will probably eat something there after the hunt before we return. There will be a formal dinner here the following weekend... You have heard that some wizards and witches are suggesting that the guild be abandoned in favor of something they call a ministry of magic? I deal with enough muggle bureaucracy to recognize a bad idea. Some of us who oppose the idea meet on occasion to discuss how we can preserve the guild. It has served us well for centuries and I see no advantage in throwing it out. We typically hold a dance in the evening."

* * *

_Dear Lizzy,_  
_The Malfoys keep several owls. The home is_  
_lovely – and when you return to England you  
shall find me__ mistress of the estate. I will speak_  
_with Claudius soon on the advantages of our_  
_marriage, or perhaps I shall wait for Mr._  
_Malfoy to begin the conversation. It appears_  
_he desires to settle the matter swiftly. He has_  
_already invited many prominent witches and_  
_wizards to a ball in two weeks. While he did_  
_not admit his real motive for the ball –_  
_saying it had something to do with guild_  
_business – what better time would there be_  
_to introduce his future daughter-in-law to_  
_the cream of the wizarding community? You_  
_will not believe how little clothing Kitty_  
_brought. Or perhaps you would. I fear she is_  
_quite wild. It was only with difficulty that I_  
_restrained her from running off to the stable_  
_before greeting our hosts. I hope her actions_  
_do not reflect badly on me, but Mr. Malfoy_  
_knows the original invitation was to you and_  
_that she only came for the sake of propriety_  
_so I trust everything will be fine. But, as I_  
_shall say in every letter, I wish you were_  
_here with me._  
_Love,_  
_Viv_

* * *

King John, like other monarchs of the High Middle Ages, sought to centralize power in himself. And, like other monarchs, found himself opposed by nobles who stood to lose power if the kings succeeded. English nobles threatened war if John didn't sign the Great Charter and, being outnumbered, John signed. In the sense it says no one, not even the king, is above the law the _Magna Carta_ points toward modern government. In the sense the nobles had the power to force the king to sign the document it represents the decentralization of power of the medieval period.

The title of Marquis is pretty much the top of the noble pecking order, and Baron far down the list. I'm uncertain if one can actually be kicked down the noble list. Titles sometimes disappear. You were far more likely to lose your head than suffer a demotion. Even if you lost your head the title might remain – with the title, honors, (often the widow), and lands attached thereto transferred from the person who lost favor and head to someone the king liked. In my mind some king had to be pretty p****d with the Marquis of Malfoy to reduce him to Baron Malfoy, but had enough presence of mind to realize that trying to eliminate him was far more dangerous than the king would dare attempt.

When hunting foxes out-of-season the chase theoretically ended when the fox went to ground – i.e. entered its burrow. During the hunting season flushing it out and killing it was considered sport. While theory said a fox should be allowed to live if it gained its home at other times during the year the nicety was not always observed.


	3. As You Like It

**Disclaimer**: JK Rowling presented seven years of a school which was supposed to have existed for centuries. Hogwarts 1835 had little from canon besides location. Hogwarts 1940 could serve as a prequel to the canon books. This sequel to 1835 has little from canon but a few family names and a location or two, but those are from Rowling's books. Similarities to any person, living are dead, with the characters in this story is an amazing coincidence.

My parameters for what constitutes canon are defined at the end of chapter one.

**Chapter 3 – As You Like It**

Kitty, anxious to see the stables, awakened Viv before the blond witch would have preferred. "It's late, get moving."

"It's early," Vivien retorted, closed her eyes and pulled the pillow over her head.

Kitty pulled the pillow off her friend. "Do you want to eat before we go riding?"

"Will you offer me another hour of sleep as a choice?"

"You've had all night to sleep, time to face the day."

Squinting against the morning light streaming through the window Vivien sat up in bed and stared in amazement at Kitty. "What are you wearing?" Viv demanded.

"Surely you know what trousers are."

"I'm unaccustomed to seeing them on a woman."

"Much better for riding, and working around the stable."

"We are guests, we are not to work."

"Well, they're still better for riding."

"Didn't expect to see the two of you up," Matthias told the women as they found the dining room. "Claudius is never up before noon and Mr. Malfoy imagined you kept similar hours. I imagine you're wanting breakfast."

"Yes, please," Kitty told him. "I'm ravenous."

Vivien expressed her thoughts, "Tea, toast, and fruit would be lovely."

"I'll need more than what she wants," Kitty said, looking with envy at the secretary's plate.

Mr. Prewett glanced toward the stony-faced woman who stood to one side of the dining room. The young women guessed she was the Sloper sister who had been mentioned the day before. The middle-aged woman nodded to show she understood and headed for the kitchen. He stared at Kitty's attire and Vivien blushed at the scrutiny. "She says it is more comfortable for riding," the blonde witch explained.

"I… um… imagine that is true," he agreed.

"So, what's happening today?" Kitty asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from Mr. Prewett. Vivien moved over to the table and hesitated. She believed that it was a servant's job to pull out the chair for her, but there was not one present. Would she be guilty of being too casual if she seated herself, or was it part of the informality of a country morning to seat oneself? Deciding she looked foolish standing by the table she sat down.

"I'll be working in the library, as usual," Matthias told Kitty. "I'd ask you if you were interested in the library, but it sounds like you prefer the out-of-doors. Mr. Malfoy said he had a small issue with a tenant to settle this morning. He hopes to be home by noon and show the two of you the park properly."

"It seems he spends a great deal of time with the business of the manor," Vivien commented.

"Claudius was probably correct in his observation, even if intemperate in his language, last night. Perhaps his father spends too much time attending to the manor. I sometimes imagine his steward feels reduced to the level of clerk since that seems the only role Mr. Malfoy allows him."

"Really?" Kitty asked.

"Well… As I said, it is what I imagine. I've met the man. He has expressed no complaint in my hearing and even praises Mr. Malfoy for his attention to the property, but it might be that he sees praising Mr. Malfoy to be in his own interest. I really don't pay much attention to what goes on outside the Hall."

The grim Miss Sloper appeared with a tray and set cups of tea before the women. Vivien was given a plate with a sliced peach and some strawberries along a piece of toast with orange marmalade while Kitty was given a plate with fried eggs, bacon, bangers, fried potatoes, and three slices of toast with jam.

Mr. Prewett offered to show them the stables, but Kitty declined the offer. "I'll be able to find them," she assured him, "and if I can't see it..." She inhaled deeply to show a second means of discovering their location.

A wagon loaded with bags of oats was by the stable door. An old farmer sat on the wagon seat while a brawny young man piled the oats in a stack of bags just inside the door. "Are you Clarence?" Kitty called.

"Yep," the young man grunted as he hefted two of the bags and moved them inside the stables.

"We're guests at the house, and-"

"Can ya wait a minute, m'am," he interrupted and kept unloading the wagon.

"He's very strong," Kitty whispered to Viv as they watched him work. "Good looking too."

"He's a muggle," Vivien reminded her.

"I didn't say he wasn't. You can be a muggle and strong and good-looking."

"Well don't tell him that. Muggle women are supposed to be demure and–"

"And not supposed to be wearing trousers either, according to you," Kitty sniffed.

Having emptied the wagon the young man called to the driver, "Yo, Tom. I'm finished." The old farmer cracked his whip and the two horses pulled the wagon away. Clarence then looked at the women, clearly puzzled by Kitty's attire. "Heard there'd be couple guests at the hoose. If'n ya don't min', I've too much work to drive ya 'roun in the barouche. Young master has a cabriolet he's most particular about. If'n the young master's frien'," he nodded at Kitty, "can handle a gig I'll-"

"We want to ride horses," Kitty told him firmly. "I trust you have saddles."

"Three vehicles," Vivien whispered to Kitty in a voice loud enough for the man to hear.

Kitty looked unimpressed, "And probably some wagons and a dogcart if there're hounds."

"Aye," the stableman agreed. "And Master's carriage. I hear the late Mistress was quite the rider, there be saddles for ladies."

"And I obviously don't need a woman's saddle," Kitty pointed out, "although Viv will."

"Yes," Vivien answered. "There was some cob that Mr. Malfoy recommended for me – said it would be very gentle."

"Tha'd be Sam." He looked at Kitty. "An' for ya I'll say-"

"I'll look over the horses for myself," she told him, walking past him to enter the stable.

Clarence saddled the cob and led him out to Vivien.

"Here," Kitty called. "This one needs a good ride."

"No m'am. Sparta stays here."

"What do you mean, 'no'?"

"No means no. Sparta's na to leave the paddock."

"Nonsense, this is a fine animal – but he's losing muscle and getting fat. Put a saddle on him – I'll give him a good run."

"Master's orders. Sparta's na to be ridden."

"I'm a guest. I'm telling you to saddle this horse."

"Ya may be a guest, but ya're na the master."

"Then I'll saddle him myself."

Clarence chuckled at the absurdity of the idea, "Wan' me to show ya the saddles?"

"I saw them when I was looking over the stables. You're treating the animals well, but some of the tack isn't as clean as it should be and you've got rats and mice in the oats – you need a couple good cats out here." She pushed past the surprised Clarence and selected a saddle, then carried it back to the stall. She didn't want to use a hover charm in front of a muggle and the saddle was heavier than she expected. "You could help me carry the saddle at least."

"No m'am, na if ya're plannin' to ride Sparta." He didn't appreciate a woman telling him how to do his job. Carrying a saddle was one thing. He was surprised she had managed that feat. Putting in on the horse and getting it properly cinched would be another matter entirely.

In a faster time that Clarence could have managed Kitty had the girth cinched and was leading the horse out from the stable. Clarence managed a final warning, "Master won't like ya ridin' Sparta," before Kitty helped Vivien mount Sam and the redhead swung a leg over saddle and shook the reins to get Sparta moving.

Not knowing the trails around the estate the two women rode a few miles out on the road by which they had arrived the day before. Kitty would have ridden further to exercise her mount, but Vivien was an indifferent rider and would have preferred a shorter ride. "We should have taken the gig," Vivien protested.

"Nonsense. You said you'd accompany the hunt this weekend."

"I did."

"Think you can do that in a gig? Not that it would really matter. You need a lot of practice the next couple days if you don't want to make a damn fool of yourself."

"I'm not that bad."

"You're so bad you don't even know how bad you are," Kitty told her firmly. Vivien stopped speaking to her for the remainder of the ride.

A livid Titus Malfoy paced outside the stable waiting their return. "Why did you take that horse," he shouted at Kitty as the women rode up.

"He needed a good ride," she told him calmly as she dismounted. "Clarence," she shouted, "you were bloody useless in helping me this morning. Get out here now! Miss Kestrel and I are done with our ride."

Mr. Malfoy tried to hold his tongue as Clarence came out for the two horses. He looked at Kitty, "He tells me that he informed you Sparta was not to be ridden."

"He did. And wouldn't give me a damn bit of help in getting him saddled." Clarence could tell there was trouble brewing and without saying a word quickly moved the horses into the stable in order to avoid any collateral damage.

"And why, after being told that Sparta was not to be ridden did you take him out?"

"I told you, he needed a good ride. Why in the bloody hell are you trying to kill him?"

"I will ask you to moderate in your language. I am not seeking to harm Sparta."

"Well, if you'll pardon my language you are doing a damn fine job of harming him. He needs to be exercised."

"He was my wife's favorite and I—"

"And you're honoring her by killing her favorite horse?"

"He is not to be ridden!"

"I know the killing curse. Be a lot less painful in the long run if that's what you're trying to do. Save you money on oats too."

"Kitty," Vivien protested in horror at her friend's comments.

"You will not abuse my hospitality," Mr. Malfoy began, "by riding Sparta. You will—"

"Did Claude say you have a portrait of your wife somewhere in the house? Can we ask her opinion?"

"A portrait is not my wife. I will not—"

"Still might be worth asking her opinion. Where did Claude say I'd find her?"

He turned and began walking back to the house. The two women had to move quickly to stay with him.

As he stalked through the house Gordon handed him a letter, "This arrived for you while–" Titus Malfoy seized it without breaking stride and continued on his way with the young women in close pursuit.

For some reason Vivien expected the portrait to be of a more beautiful woman. The late Mrs. Malfoy was not unattractive, with regular features and eyes that mirrored the intelligence of her husband and son, but neither was she striking in appearance. Her hair was pulled back in a severe fashion, appropriate for the hunting garb she wore in the picture. The portrait smiled pleasantly – one of the few smiles Vivien had seen since arriving at the Malfoy home.

"Titus, how pleasant and unexpected to see you. You know, some wizards take comfort from the portraits of their wives."

"You are not my wife."

"Of course, and I did not claim to be, I simply reminded you that even shadows of our former selves can grow lonely. Fortunately there is Claudius to keep me company. And, since being dead allows me to speak my mind without fear of consequences I will remind you that you are dreadfully amiss about visiting. Now, have you come to make amends with a social call or to introduce me to the young ladies behind you? Claudius informs you that you have been scheming without consulting me. I would be upset, if portraits could be upset."

"This girl," Mr. Malfoy pointed at Kitty, "was riding Sparta."

"Are you quite certain it is a girl? The trousers suggest a young man."

Kitty introduced herself, "Catherine Kelly, M'am. Find it much easier to ride."

"I dare say you would. Nevertheless you are a guest of the Malfoys and etiquette dictates a certain level of decorum, even from the Irish, while a guest at the house. You will scandalize the natives dressed like that."

"You can't jump right in a damn lady's saddle!"

"You will please watch your language. I was always able to jump while using an appropriate saddle so with practice you..." The portrait glanced at Titus, "You have never told me how I died. An accident while hunting might have pleased me. Poor Claudius is unable to discuss his mother's death with me. Did I die hunting?"

"You are a portrait, as I must remind you, and my wife did not die hunting."

There was another question for Mr. Malfoy, "Did Claudius tell me you would be at the Whitleys this weekend?"

"I don't know what Claudius may have told you, but yes, I accepted the invitation."

The portrait turned back to Kitty, "You had best practice hard the next few days if you plan on jumping and would prefer not to break your neck."

"Yes, M'am. I'd not considered that how I was dressed might reflect on my hosts. I'll practice riding with a skirt."

The painting smiled. "Very good. Problem solved. Now, Titus, Claudius informs me–"

Titus Malfoy coughed, "The problem is not solved, or at least not all of it. She was told not to ride Sparta and–"

"Is something wrong with Sparta?"

Before Mr. Malfoy could answer Kitty spoke up, "He wanted exercise. Too much time in the paddock, he's getting fat and weak."

"He wanted exercise?"

"Yes, M'am. We Kellys know."

"Titus? Is this true? Why isn't Sparta being ridden?"

"Does it matter? The new man in the stables told her the horse was not to be ridden, those were my orders, and she disobeyed them."

"And I don't care what you told to whom. My question remains why isn't Sparta being ridden?"

"I don't see that the matter concerns you."

"You never treated me like this when I was alive. Is this more of your inappropriate mourning for my death? "

"My behavior is not inappropriate."

"Yes it is. Claudius is very concerned about you, and since I only hear his version of events I am inclined to accept them as true." The painting looked back at the Irish girl, "Catherine?"

"You may call me Kitty, M'am."

"Not yet. You will remain Catherine for the present. I believe you have spoken truthfully and that Sparta needed to be taken out and exercised. Please continue to do so, but if he is as out of condition as you say don't give him his head at the Whitleys. There are some jumps there he might not be ready to attempt."

"Now see here," Mr. Malfoy protested. "Sparta is not your horse."

"And if you abuse the poor creature he is not your horse. I loved him very much and can't abide the thought of him growing fat and useless. Will you give her permission to ride him, even if you won't ride him yourself?" He hesitated. "Titus, that horse was born to run. It is an act of cruelty to deny him – and I know you are not a cruel man."

He sighed, "Very well," and turned to Kitty. "You may ride Sparta."

"And now you will offer proper introductions," the painting told Mr. Malfoy. "Claudius tells me you have invited them here as marriage prospects."

"That is not an appropriate matter for discussion."

"It is the most appropriate matter in the world for discussion, and while it might be inappropriate with them present I must remind you that if you'd visit more often I wouldn't be forced to take such drastic action when I see you. I believe the original invitation was to a Miss Gray and Miss Kestrel?"

"Miss Gray and Miss Kestrel were schoolmates of Claudius. Does he tell you of his problems at school when he comes to criticize me?"

"He does not come to criticize you. He loves you very much. He is concerned about you, and very unhappy about what he believes your plans are for him."

"I asked the young women to visit in order to learn more about Claudius. Miss Gray married a young man from Gryffindor when spring term ended and has left the country. Since it would not be proper for Miss Kestrel to visit by herself Miss Gray suggested that Miss Kelly be asked to accompany her."

"Claudius thinks you have more in mind than simply a visit by two schoolmates. Now, introductions, please."

"Miss Kelly, this is a portrait of my late wife." He gestured to the Irish girl, "you have been introduced informally. This is Catherine Kelly."

"Slytherin?"

"Yes, M'am."

"I do not recall animal husbandry in the curriculum. What were your best classes and how did you do?"

"I was probably best at herbology. Never took a first. Lizzy... I mean Miss Gray, and her cousin Robin Fletcher were outstanding. Astronomy may have been my second best subject – almost earned first a couple times. Did well in transfigurations too."

"Thank you. And I appreciate you giving Sparta a good workout. And the other young woman?"

Vivien stepped forward, "Miss Kestrel," Mr. Malfoy made the introduction, "a portrait of Mrs. Malfoy." He nodded towards the blond witch, "Vivien Kestrel, also of Slytherin."

"You are extremely beautiful, child. But I expect you know that."

Vivien blushed, "I've been told I am beautiful."

"Well it's certainly true. And I'm quite certain you believe it and relish the compliments. Enjoy them while you can. Beauty, like life itself, does not last forever. What were your best subjects?"

As Vivien and the portrait talked Mr. Malfoy opened the letter he had been holding.

"I took firsts in charms every year. I was second only to your son in dark arts in fourth and sixth years, and I often had the highest marks in potions in Slytherin."

"Very good. You are beautiful. Have you had many suitors?"

Vivien blushed, "Mrs. Malfoy, that is indelicate."

"I'm dead, remember. I can be as indelicate as I wish. Now then, suitors?"

"My behavior has always been above reproach. I have never had a serious suitor."

"If you are telling the truth it means your family is poor. What does your father do?"

Mr. Malfoy looked up from the letter and answered. "Her father is dead, her mother is a seamstress in Diagon Alley."

"Kestrel... Of course. Did you know that when you invited her Titus?"

"I did not."

"I am very disappointed with you."

"Miss Gray's father has done very well in respectable trade, was on the Board of Governors at Hogwarts, and has a country home. I invited them here because they are friends of Claudius."

"Perhaps. I do wish you'd consult me about your plans for Claudius."

"I will not discuss plans for Claudius with you."

"Well you should, it would save you the embarrassment of considering unsuitable young women."

"That is quite enough," he told the portrait. "I just received a letter from the bishop. He has invited himself to dinner and to spend the night and I must warn the Slopers."

"He's not taking Reverend Henley, is he?"

"I do not believe so. He indicates some business in another parish of the diocese and prefers our hospitality when he travels. But Reverend Henley will not remain forever, I'm certain a more appropriate appointment will be found for him."

The portrait offered a quick warning to the two women. "I assume you know not to talk magic in front of the bishop."

"Yes, M'am," they assured her.

"Reverend Henley?" Vivien asked as the trio left the nursery.

"There are two livings to which I can make appointments. They are too small to be attractive, so the Malfoys usually accept the bishop's suggestions. This usually means a relic who has outlived his usefulness in a larger parish, a bright young man who will do a fine job until he gets a better appointment, or a man without talents who will do a poor job for many years."

"So Reverend Henley is one of the bright men?" Kitty concluded.

"He is a good man. I will need to warn Claudius to be on his best behavior this evening."

After Mr. Malfoy issued dinner directions the three found Claudius in the library. "The bishop is a pompous old dullard," Claudius warned the young women

"Claudius," his father said sternly. "That is inappropriate."

"Oh, you know it's true," his son yawned. He turned to Matthias Prewett, "Have you noticed that, important as the truth is to my father, manners are more important?"

The thin man squirmed at the question, "While his grace is limited in topics of conversation I have always found his interest in the Norman period to be–"

"Oh, that's right," Claudius interrupted, "you're a bit of a dullard yourself. Viv and Kitty can only hope he comes up with one of his occasional absurdities."

Titus chose to ignore his son's comments, but the young man made further comments on the evening's guest. "Lord knows how the fool became a bishop – I'm certain no human could offer a rational explanation. But they say God works in mysterious ways," Claudius sighed. "Fortunately he'll drink too much claret and leave the table early to sleep it off. Now, one of you must ask him about Norman rood screens."

"Norman rood screens?"

"Some church architecture. He's quite dotty on the subject. And while he is wretchedly boring he at least offers some amusement as a fanatic in his rants. Smile and nod occasionally. He can bore you on any number of topics, but will usually infuriate you as well. One of you merely needs to ask about Norman rood screens to create a diversion."

Kitty looked over to Mr. Prewett for confirmation, "Well, is he right?"

"Absolutely," the thin man agreed. "The evening will likely be agony

The bishop and a curate who served as his secretary arrived half an hour before dinner. Vivien decided that Ebenezer Ffolkes could not possibly be as ancient as he appeared, at least she could not imagine anyone being as old as he appeared. Titus introduced the bishop to the two young women before supper. Both women resolved not to let the warning from Claudius influence their judgment but it was soon apparent Claudius had spoken nothing but the truth.

Bishop Ffolkes took social rank seriously and addressed Mr. Malfoy simply as "Baron," while the churchman did not address the young Irish Catholic woman at all. It is not clear how much the bishop actually ate, since he spent most of his time lecturing Titus Malfoy on the evils of the Tithe Commutation Act which would be considered in Parliament that fall and urging the Baron to vote against the proposal to allow Dissenters and Catholics to pollute the sacred bonds of marriage in England, "These Newmanites would bring back Popish superstition and wooden shoes! I can't believe Oxford has fallen into such a state they allow such ideas to spread like a blight."

The curate wisely said nothing, knowing that his superior would resent any words he uttered because it would mean less time for the bishop to express his own opinions.

Claudius kept filling the bishop's glass with claret, and Titus did nothing to discourage his son. Mr. Prewett could see Kitty's growing agitation and without even knowing her reputation for anger still had sufficient presence of mind to ask the bishop about Norman architecture.

Accompanied by his curate the bishop retired, on unsteady legs, before the end of the meal - pleading he was tired from his travels and needed rest.

"His grace was, um, not himself this evening," Mr. Prewett stammered by way of apology to Kitty.

"Nonsense, Matthias," Claudius chuckled, "If he hadn't been himself it could only have been an improvement."

Vivien penned a note to Elizabeth that evening. She wondered how many owls the Malfoys kept and knew she should not send them all to Elizabeth.

_Dear Lizzy,_  
_You will not believe how Kitty dressed today_  
_for riding – trousers! She also caused a_  
_scandal by disobeying the wishes of Mr._  
_Malfoy. One should never anger one's_  
_host. We were introduced to a portrait_  
_of Mr. Malfoy's late wife. She must have_  
_been a very sensible woman. I think I_  
_ride very well, but Kitty insisted I will_  
_need a great deal of practice before the_  
_hunt this weekend. Apparently the Malfoys_  
_are very respected by the muggles too. Did_  
_I tell you yesterday that he is a baron? I_  
_can't recall. I was so giddy from my arrival_  
_and the beauty of the house I might have_  
_forgotten. In any case, the bishop values_  
_Mr. Malfoy's hospitality so much he invites_  
_himself to stay when he is nearby. I wonder_  
_if he will perform the ceremony? The_  
_wedding will be much too fine for the_  
_Diagon church. It has been a long day and_  
_I am tired from this morning's ride, but I_  
_had to write these lines to let you know_  
_what is happening in my quest._  
_Love,_  
_Vivien_

* * *

Dogcarts... While small carts, meant to be pulled by a dog existed, dogcarts were common, country vehicles pulled by horses. The driver/passengers sat on storage area suitable for carrying dogs. It was a fairly small vehicle with easy storage and eminently practical.

In Victorian times the etiquette books detailed what styles of clothing, in what materials, and what mourning rituals were appropriate for the loss of various levels of family. The gentry class would have already known appropriate forms of mourning, and the emerging middle class would slavishly follow the dictates of the etiquette books. Women were expected to mourn husbands longer than men were expected to mourn wives. (And Victoria went overboard in mourning for Prince Albert.)

The Oxford Movement began publishing Tracts for the Times in 1833 and eventually led many high-church Anglicans back to Catholicism. John Henry Newman was an early Tractarian writer/leader.

If you really care you can check on the Tithe Commutation Act and Norman Rood screens at Wikipedia. The rood screens had gone out of fashion centuries earlier and been removed from most churches, but the Romantic movement created a delight in discovering old architecture and bringing earlier styles back to life – hence the Neo-Gothic/Gothic Revival style of the new Parliament building (design approved 1836) and hundreds of 19th century U.S. churches.


	4. Hamlet

**Disclaimer**: JK Rowling presented seven years of a school which was supposed to have existed for centuries. Hogwarts 1835 had little from canon besides location. Hogwarts 1940 could serve as a prequel to the canon books. This sequel to 1835 has little from canon but a few family names and a location or two, but those are from Rowling's books. Similarities to any person, living are dead, with the characters in this story is an amazing coincidence.

My parameters for what constitutes canon are defined at the end of chapter one.

**Chapter 4 – Hamlet**

Miss Kestrel found a falcon perched on her window sill the next morning with a note on its leg.

_Viv,_  
_We leave Hanover tomorrow. The delay in_  
_plans caused by my marriage to Charles gives_  
_us time for a trip to Durmstrang before we_  
_travel to Moscow. Some professors there wish_  
_to see Professor Potter, and he will look for_  
_information in their library. I may be under_  
_scrutiny myself. Now that I am married to_  
_Charles, his father declared that I will be_  
_in charge of herbology for the expedition. One_  
_of the witches scheduled to study herbology has_  
_refused to accompany the expedition under_  
_the new circumstances - which throws an_  
_even greater weight of responsibility upon me._  
_If I were not so grateful to Mrs. Pilton for_  
_making this all possible I might think she was_  
_trying to teach me a lesson in humility, for I feel_  
_quite overwhelmed. But I am far too happy to_  
_learn lessons at the moment. Bless you again_  
_for the potion to stop snoring. I will lay in a_  
_supply of ingredients while in Moscow since I_  
_can not be certain of their availability when we_  
_reach our destination. I pray you and Kitty_  
_enjoy your stay._  
_Lizzy._

Kitty was eating breakfast, with both of the Malfoys and Mr. Prewett, when Vivien came downstairs.

"I have one tenant I need to check with my steward this morning," Titus apologized, "but hope to be home in an hour or two. I suggest Claudius–"

"Strongly suggested, quite imperious actually," Claudius yawned, "that I go riding with you this morning. I suspect there is no tenet and he merely hopes to improve my civility towards you by forced familiarity."

"Doesn't seem to be working," Kitty muttered.

"I do have work," his father assured him. "But if I thought such a ploy might improve your manners I would use it. However, Miss Kelly needs some practice riding in a skirt before we go to the Whitleys."

Claudius looked puzzled, "How does she usually ride? Like Lady Godiva?"

Matthias coughed softly, "She was wearing trousers yesterday."

Claudius laughed, "I'd have gotten up early to see that. Why didn't you wake me?"

"Claudius will show you some of the paths in our park this morning. Matthias and I will show you around the house in the afternoon. He takes justifiable pride in the work he has done in organizing the dark arts collection."

In the stable Clarence gave Kitty a black glare when she wasn't looking, and didn't speak a word as he saddled Sparta for her.

The morning was beautiful. Claudius would have preferred his cabriolet to horseback, but he rode well and enjoyed showing his knowledge of the property. He also enjoyed trying to make the ride slightly uncomfortable for the two women in the name of preparing them for the hunt by his choice of paths.

Kitty, knowing her mount needed exercise as much as she needed practice riding in a skirt didn't mind the pace or trail and actually drew a compliment from Claudius for a tricky jump. The redhead said nothing and congratulated herself on the fact how dangerously close she had come to being unseated going unnoticed.

Vivien endured some mild ridicule from her intended husband as she avoided all jumps and began to realize the truth of Kitty's warning about her need for practice the previous day.

Despite his amusement at Vivien's horsemanship and his father's all too transparent machinations in inviting the two witches for a visit Claudius regarded Vivien as the closest woman friend he had. Without his father there to read more into the exchange he chatted with her about news of Hogwarts students. Claudius did not like Charles Potter and expressed the opinion that Elizabeth could have done better. Vivien wondered if that was an indication Claudius might have considered Miss Gray a suitable marriage prospect.

"She says the two of them are quite happy," Viv told him.

Claudius sighed and stared off into the distance, "I suppose... Being able to spend time with... I... You heard Turk married that great cow from Hufflepuff during Spring Term?"

"Yes, Turk told Lizzy. The only other soul who knew was Brigid's sister, Erin."

"And Lizzy didn't even tell you?" he laughed. "I didn't know there was a woman in the world who could keep her mouth shut."

"Watch your mouth or I'll shut it with my fist," Kitty threatened. "Women are better than men in knowing how to keep a secret."

"When it is important," Viv said in a soothing tone, "women know the importance of discretion and secrecy. Lizzy gave them her word, and that was always inviolate to her. She says both their families were upset with them and they've been forced to stay with one of his relatives in Edinburgh."

"Then I have more recent news. Turk's family agreed to receive them and the visit went very well. There is a rumor of an overture from the O'Shaughnessy tribe toward the newlyweds also... You say Erin knew her sister was married?"

"That was what Lizzy told me."

"I hope her parents don't discover that fact or Hufflepuff will need a new seeker next year while Erin languishes in exile on some barren rock."

"Anything seem odd about gossip with Claude?" Kitty asked as the women returned to their rooms to change from their riding clothes.

"You mean Turk and Brigid? I imagine by now everyone has heard they eloped – but I am surprised by how current his news on their families is."

"He didn't mention Peter once. He spoke of everyone else in our class in Slytherin – he even talked about Charlotte's wedding plans, and I don't think he ever cared a fig for her. But not a word on Peter."

Vivien hesitated, it did seem peculiar, but she refused to give Kitty any credit for the observation. "Maybe Peter is traveling somewhere and–"

"And hasn't sent an owl to Claude?"

"You're too suspicious."

"You've got your eyes closed."

"Closed to what?" Vivien demanded.

"I don't know," Kitty admitted.

The pretty witch laughed, "There seems little difference between having one's eyes opened or closed. You really should learn to curb your imagination.

After luncheon Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Prewett took the young women on a tour of the less visible parts of Malfoy Hall.

"Originally there was a castle," Matthias, explained to the two women as Titus Malfoy tapped a wall with his wand and it slid back – revealing a broad, curving stairway. "The original castle, or at least those portions that would have been above ground disappeared over time – torn down or incorporated into the hall. I suspect nothing of the original building, or at least the above ground portions, remained visible by the end of the Jacobin period – but this would have been the original dungeon."

"Jacobin?" Vivien asked. "The Manor looks newer."

"Oh, the present facade is Georgian," Mr. Malfoy assured her. "A few rooms are still Tudor. There is always work to be done. I plan new glazing in the near future."

The four lit their wands and proceeded down the stone steps, worn smooth over the centuries.

There was a large open space at the bottom of the stairs. "The family and retainers would have been safe here during attack," Mr. Malfoy explained. Much of the room was taken with display cases and shelves containing a variety of objects associated with the dark arts.

Along one wall were instruments of torture. Mr. Prewett pointed to them, and then indicated one of the two visible doorways leading off the large room. "These would have been in there. There were cells for keeping prisoners."

"I've no idea how long it has been since there was a captive," Mr. Malfoy explained. "That was where the dark arts collection was originally stored, but it quite overgrew the space and was moved out here by my grandfather."

"What's in there?" Kitty asked, pointing at the other door.

"I don't know what it might have been originally. But when the weather is dreadfully hot I come down here to read. There are a few comfortable chairs and a small number of books there."

"You can read with some of this stuff," Kitty gestured at the display before her, "out here?"

Their host looked puzzled, "Why should it cause me any unease?"

"Some of these… things… are evil."

"These are objects. Some of them were obtained by evil means and some of them may have been used to commit evil deeds, but they are incapable of any sort of evil themselves."

"May I show her Yorick?" Mr. Prewett asked.

"In a moment. Miss Kestrel has spoken of her ability with charms. I am wondering if she would be able to find any of the secret rooms."

"Secret rooms?" Vivien asked nervously. She suspected a test would be administered that she desperately wanted to pass – but was uncertain about what it would take to pass. Perhaps not finding a hidden room would be best – a tribute to the magic of the Malfoy family. But perhaps not finding a room would cause her to be seen as possessing very limited ability. Perhaps finding a room would show she was a very powerful witch.

"There are at least three more doors leading off this room, with a rumor of a fourth. One leads to my family's crypt and a second was used to hide the family treasure before there were banks. The spells used to hide them are so powerful the Malfoys have always boasted they could never be discovered by an outsider – although what one wizard does can always be undone by a wizard equally powerful and boasts should not be confused with facts."

Vivien licked her lips, "Has anyone found the doors?"

"I've heard of several, but have not witnessed any success myself. As I said, what one wizard does can often be undone by a more powerful wizard."

Vivien decided that to find something, anything, would be tribute to her ability and a confirmation she deserved to be Mrs. Malfoy. She began with basic revealing charms, doubting any would be efficacious but unwilling to overlook any chance. On her third time around the room she attempted the most advanced charms she knew. She thought she might have detected a possible door or two, but feared it might simply be her own desire which made her imagine a positive result.

She paused, frustrated. "Anything?" Kitty asked.

Vivien thought hard, there was some sort of charm associated with dead bodies or body parts. She had found it in an old tome and discussed it briefly with Professor Ogden in terms of how the charm might be used. Neither of them had suggested using it to find a family crypt, but discovering a body after a battle had been a theory they discussed. She concentrated for a moment and took a deep breath, trying to remember the details.

As Vivien finished the spell the room grew brighter. Many of the objects in the dark arts display glowed brightly, along with the number of the torture instruments. Three large spots shone on the floor, and to Vivien's delight a large rectangular section of wall emitted a pronounced light.

Titus Malfoy nodded his head in approval. "Well done. I've asked some very powerful wizards to take the challenge and none ever had as much success."

"What did you do?" Kitty demanded.

"A death charm I remembered seeing once."

"A death charm?" Mr. Prewett asked. "I thought those were all nonsense."

"I've always heard that the charms to predict death don't work," Titus Malfoy told him. "This was something else."

"What are these glows on the floor?" Kitty demanded, tapping the nearer one with her foot.

"I would assume there is someone buried there," her host remarked – and Kitty quickly moved away from the spot where she had been standing. "I am somewhat surprised there are only three."

"Your ancestors would be in the crypt," Matthias reminded him, gesturing to the wall whose hidden doorway still glowed.

"True, but sometimes even I believe the legends of evil ancestors. If they had been the monsters some claim one would think there would be more bodies buried under the floor."

"An interest in the dark arts, even if it is only for the sake of knowledge, will always cause some to think a person is evil."

"And jealousy," Vivien added, in part to flatter her host. "When you are wealthy some will spread slanders without any evidence."

"True," Mr. Prewett nodded in agreement.

"Quite the home," Kitty muttered, staring at the glowing spots on the floor.

"We have been living here a long while," Mr. Malfoy reminded her.

As the glow from Vivien's spell began to disappear Matthias called the attention of the two women to the shelves holding the dark artifacts. "Here is the one I find especially interesting," he said – gesturing to a skull on a stand inside a crystal dome. The bones of the head still glowed faintly from Vivien's charm. He lifted the dome. "I call him Yorick."

Vivien smiled and Kitty looked puzzled. "A play by Shakespeare," Vivien explained.

Kitty looked even more puzzled. "Shakespeare was a muggle playwright," Titus Malfoy told her. "In a play called Hamlet the skull of a jester named Yorick is discovered by grave diggers."

"Leave it to the Malfoys to make fun of death," a sepulchral voice intoned.

The startled Kitty noted the empty eye sockets of the skull now glowed a green very different from the light produced by Vivien's charm and the lower mandible moved as the words seemed to issue from the skull. The Irish girl stepped back and Vivien stepped closer and stared at the curiosity.

"Not to make too fine a point of the matter," Mr. Prewett commented, "but I was the one who applied the name – since you refused to give me a real name."

"You're a toad working for the house of Malfoy – you eat the scraps from his table and so I blame their cursed house for all the evils under their roof."

"He's not very cooperative," Matthias explained.

"And shockingly rude," Vivien added.

"Who are these two bitches?" the skull demanded.

Kitty, now outraged and with curiosity out-weighing her revulsion, stepped closer, "You keep a civil tongue in your head, you…" Realizing what she had said she stopped and giggled nervously.

"Aye, mock the dead. I would expect no more in this hell hole."

"It's not a ghost," Vivien said slowly. "I've never heard of such a thing."

"I suspect it is the head of some old enemy of the house – kept as a souvenir of a now-forgotten victory in a wizard's duel," Matthias suggested.

"But what sort of spell would animate it in such a manner," the blond witch asked.

"Well… I can't answer that. One of the things I hope to find in the books I'm cataloguing on the dark arts is an explanation."

"I have offered to let it sit on a shelf in the library," Titus Malfoy mentioned. "It's seems infinitely more charitable than letting it—"

"I need no favors from the damned house of Malfoy," the skull swore.

"Of course he would need to be put away if there were guests in the house – especially any muggle guests," Matthias mentioned.

"My own theory," Mr. Malfoy explained, "is that a wizard made the error of trying to turn his own head into a horcrux."

"Horcrux?" asked Kitty.

"A nasty piece of dark arts," Mr. Prewett told her. "You divide your own soul so that, if your body dies, a portion of you remains on this plane. I can show you books in the library that talk about it. The theory makes some sense, but there is no record of anyone having done it – at least the using your own skull for the horcrux. Yorick here is not cooperative when asked about his own history."

"Curses mean nothing to me," the skull boasted.

"Has anyone tried charms on it?" Vivien asked.

"I have not," Mr. Malfoy admitted. "Other than offering to remove it to the library and leaving it out of its case to see the seasons through the windows I've done very little with it. I can not speak for any of my ancestors." He turned to the other man, "Any success with charms?"

Matthias shrugged, "The truth is, I was never very good with charms. History and astronomy were my strong subjects. He looked at Vivien, "You appear to be very good with charms. I would like to think of a short list of questions to ask Yorick here if you would do me the favor of trying to charm him another day."

Vivien turned to Mr. Malfoy, "You heard Kitty and me tell the portrait of our strengths at Hogwarts, and Mr. Prewett has told us that history and astronomy were his fields of study. In what classes did you excel? Dark arts, I dare say, must have been your best subject."

Their host smiled at the recollection. "I took firsts in the dark arts. I think my father might have disowned me if I had not. Runes was my favorite class. I—"

"Runes?" Kitty asked in disbelief.

"And why not? Pictish runes hold a fascination for me."

"I'm sorry," Kitty apologized. "You simply don't look like my mental image of someone who loves runes."

"And what is your image of someone who studies Pictish runes?"

"I'm not… certain…" Kitty hesitated, then pointed at Mr. Prewett, "Probably someone who looked more like him."

"Matthias," Mr. Malfoy smiled as he addressed the younger man, "having insulted me for my interest in runes I believe she has just insulted you for your appearance."

The secretary gestured, pointing down the length of his boney frame, "Sadly, she may have simply been telling the truth."

"T'wasn't meant as an insult I… I just want fresh air and out of this dungeon with all its ugly, I—"

"And now she insults me," the skull complained. "A woman who knows neither her place in the world nor sense of gratitude. A fitting guest for the damned house of—"

"And put the dome back over that thing," Kitty ordered Matthias, "Send it back to sleep or back to hell or whatever happens when you do that."

"Sorry," the scholar apologized, placing the dome back over the skull. "I just find these things so fascinating that—"

"I don't. Get me out of here, please."

"Certainly. Would a ride in the gig help?"

"It would be lovely. Thank you. I just want out."

"Escort her out now," Mr. Malfoy suggested when Mr. Prewett looked like he might ask permission to leave the group. As the two disappeared up the stairway he mused, "I believe there is some term for people who don't like enclosed spaces. I'm surprised she survived Slytherin."

"I'm not certain if the problem was the space. She seemed quite repulsed by some of your collection."

"Having grown up with it, I sometimes forget that others find it shocking. Good or bad this is part of my heritage. You are not repulsed?"

"I mostly curious about it. Dark arts was one of my better classes, I am seeing things here that I have only read about. As you said, these are exhibits rather than being used to harm anyone. Looking at them, with that understanding, I can find them fascinating. Can you show me more?"

"I would be happy to do so, but it might look inappropriate for the two of us to remain alone in the dungeon."

She nodded in agreement, "You are right."

As they emerged from the hidden stairway into the house she decided to approach her host directly on the subject of importance to her. "With Mr. Prewett giving Kitty a ride it in the gig it would be an excellent time to discuss why you invited me here. I believe the library would be suitable for the conversation."

"I don't know what you mean."

"I believe you know very well what I mean. You are considering a match for Claudius and that was why the invitation was extended to Elizabeth and me."

"Miss Kestrel. I believe you are suffering under a grave misapprehension."

"I don't believe that I am. Shall we continue in the library?"

His mouth tightened, but he agreed. "Yes."

He gestured to the wing chairs in front of the fireplace and they each took a seat.

"I invited Miss Gray, and you, to the Manor," Titus Malfoy told her, "because you were friends of my son in Slytherin and expressed concern for his well-being."

"And that was the only motive?"

"What other motive could there be?"

"I believe you invited us to secure Claudius's happiness through marriage."

"Had I considered such a motive I would not consider you a potential prospect. I am exceedingly disappointed in the manner in which you misrepresented yourself and your family to me – which I perceive as as attempt to secure an engagement through deceit."

"When did I misrepresent myself? I passed over questions you asked, and you optimistically interpreted them as you wished. I've not lied–"

"You were certainly less than forthcoming about your mother's shop."

"And was the investigation of my family an example of the purity of your motives?"

"I do not misrepresent my position."

"Do you investigate all your house guests? Tell me, what do you know of Miss Kelly's family?"

"I know nothing of Miss Kelly's family."

"Which suggests a special interest in me. If I have an interest in marriage to your son, the accusation you throw at me, it seems equally clear that the subject was on your own mind as well."

"Miss Kestrel, may I be clear on one point. Regardless of whatever motives may or may not have existed in my mind at the time you and Miss Gray were invited I will state with a certainty now that you will never marry my son."

"And pray tell me, who would you have him wed? Any woman who would marry him, knowing his tastes, would marry him for the Malfoy name and what it represents. In this I am no different. Any woman who marries not knowing his tastes and hoping for wedded bliss must discover the truth and then you risk the threat of scandal to the Malfoy name."

"You will not marry my son."

Vivien smiled, "Mr. Malfoy, in the short time I have known you I have become aware that you are an intelligent man who is forward looking and strives to do what is best for your heritage. You will recognize that I am the best hope you have in regard to Claudius. I will do my duty and bear an heir by one means or another. I will allow him to pursue his own interests without ever a threat of public scandal. I will bear the name Malfoy with the dignity it deserves."

"Miss Kestrel, that will never happen."

"I do not possess second sight, but I have learned that those with the gift are few and far between. The rest of us should be wary of trying to predict what will happen. You may not like me. But you are too wise to send me home. You will realize you cannot do better for your son."

"Miss Kestrel," he told her coldly, "this meeting is at an end and the subject is most emphatically closed."

"Mr. Malfoy, the meeting may be at an end, but the subject remains open. You will come to me."

"Miss Kestrel, I remind you of your own words. Those who do not possess second sight should be wary of predicting the future."

"Tell me, Mr. Malfoy, have you ever in your life changed your mind on a subject?"

"Only perfect men and perfect fools never change their minds. I know I am not the former and hope I am not the latter."

Vivien smiled, "While I have not known you for a long period of time I am certain you are no fool. And since you are no fool you will realize I am correct."

"And tell me, Miss Kestrel, do you recognize that you have ever been incorrect in what you imagined would happen?"

"Never."

He gave her a sharp look and she laughed. "Frequently," Vivien admitted. "Especially if there were a wager involved. Were I to bet you three knuts that the sun would rise in the east tomorrow it is distinctly possible that all the laws of astronomy would be violated as it rose in the north or west."

"You will discover you are incorrect in your plans for my son. You will not wed Claudius."

"I will be mistress of this home, and you will welcome me to the position."

There was no whist that evening. Titus Malfoy excused himself by saying he had a headache and retired early.

Vivien lay in bed that evening and imagined the luxuries and respect that would be hers when she became Mrs. Malfoy. _"I will be mistress of this home."_ she told herself before falling asleep.

* * *

Jacobin Period - The Stewart kings: James I, Charles I, Charles II, and James II who (with the daughters of James II - Queen Mary and Queen Anne) bridged the time between the end of the Tudors and the rise of Hanover and the Georgian period (Georges I – IV).


	5. Much Ado about Nothing

**Disclaimer**: JK Rowling presented seven years of a school which was supposed to have existed for centuries. Hogwarts 1835 had little from canon besides location. Hogwarts 1940 could serve as a prequel to the canon books. This sequel to 1835 has little from canon but a few family names and a location or two, but those are from Rowling's books. Similarities to any person, living are dead, with the characters in this story is an amazing coincidence.

My parameters for what constitutes canon are defined at the end of chapter one.

**Chapter 5 – Much Ado about Nothing**

Vivien and Kitty spent much of their time until Saturday riding around the park. Kitty, who arrived in possession of good riding skills, progressed faster in her ability to ride with a skirt than Miss Kestrel made in basic riding.

Everyone in the household rose early on Saturday. No one relished the prospect of the day ahead. Titus Malfoy participated in the neighborhood ritual only from a sense of duty to appearances. Claudius Malfoy participated in the ritual only from a sense of duty towards his father. Kitty enjoyed the thought of a good ride, but had already expressed her dislike for the hunt itself, and Vivien feared a day on horseback would expose her deficiencies as a rider and leave her both sore and exposed to ridicule. Matthias Prewett was the most fortunate of the group, too well established in the local minds as a servant of some sort to have been invited he would spend the day working in solitude.

Claudius laughed when Vivien entered the dining room for breakfast.

"What's wrong?" she demanded.

"What you're wearing."

She blushed, unaccustomed to anyone finding fault with her attire. "And what's wrong with it?"

"It is too formal," Mr. Malfoy explained. "The hunting season does not begin until the autumn. You should wear something simple and… Is that brand new?"

"Yes."

He sighed, "Miss Kelly, would you see if there is some riding habit among my wife's clothing which might fit Miss Kestrel? Something plain."

Kitty nodded and led the mortified Vivien from the room.

"We have orders for outfits like this at the shop," Vivien protested as they climbed the stairs.

"He said something about seasons," Kitty reminded her. "They must have some kind of rules about what you can wear or when you can wear it. I certainly don't know what the rules are."

The late Mrs. Malfoy had been somewhere between the two young women in size. Kitty had worn enough hand-me-downs that clothing a few inches too long did not disturb her. Vivien, accustomed to dresses custom tailored for her, felt uncomfortable in another woman's clothes, even with alteration charms which modified them to suit her frame.

Clarence had the horses saddled and the dogcart waiting when they arrived at the stables. Half a dozen hounds bayed from the area beneath the seat at their master's presence. "Need me for anything here?"

"No, you should have left."

The stableman climbed onto the seat and cracked the whip to get the horse moving.

"He'll need to stay on the road. We can leave the road at two points and save time," he explained to the women. Vivien felt slightly alarmed at the news. She did not ride well and had worried simply about not falling too badly behind during the chase. Now she faced the prospect of riding across country of uncertain difficulty both before and after the afternoon's chase.

"I shall probably introduce you as distant relatives," Titus warned them as they kept together on the road. "There are no muggle schools which allow men and women to study together so I cannot introduce you as acquaintances of Claudius from school."

"Muggles don't allow men and women to study together?" Kitty asked.

He shrugged, "I know of no respectable muggle school which allows the practice. Some dissenters have established schools of their own, but I have no idea what they might do. And I will plead that, since the wizarding community is relatively small, there is a good chance we are all related to one another – albeit sometimes distant and tenuous connections."

Vivien, who had no qualms about the idea of becoming even closer with the Malfoy family, had a question about the day. "What should we know about our host for today's hunt?"

Mr. Malfoy thought for a moment, weighing the opposing virtues of honesty and courtesy before answering in the spirit of honesty. "I doubt if Squire Whitley has added a book to the family library during his lifetime. He eats and drinks too much and lives for hunting season. His wife is a devotee of too much ornamentation about the house and her clothing. Their older son, Frederick, follows his father in eating and drinking too much and lives for his father to die so that he can inherit the property."

"Sounds like a family of monsters," Kitty commented. "Why do you bother?"

"My father avoided all possible contact with the muggles in the area," Titus told them. "And there are days when I can understand his behavior. But I feel one has a duty to one's neighbors. The younger son, Rupert, studies law in the city. He is always worth talking to, if he is there today. There will be a number of families here today and most will have superior manners to our hosts. Mrs. Malfoy had some muggles she regarded as intimate friends among the group."

Kitty had a request, "I'd prefer not to be introduced as a relative. Not that I don't approve of your family, but if I hear of work I'm on the market. Introduce me as a lady companion to Viv."

"You do realize these are all muggles?" her host reminded her.

"If you've got naught in the way of prospects and no money in the bank you'll work for Nick himself if it pays."

"Kitty!" Vivien exclaimed.

"You don't know how good you've got it," her friend shot back.

There was less opportunity for conversation as they left the road, and no sign of the dogcart and hounds when they arrived at another country home. More than a score of horses grazed in front of the house, waiting for the start of the chase. Most of the riders stood in groups, conversing and waiting for others to arrive. A woman noticed the approaching four and shouted a booming, "Hallo!" as she waved.

Titus Malfoy doffed his hat to acknowledge the greeting. "Mrs. March," he said quietly to the two women. "A fine rider. My wife was a great favorite of hers."

The call attracted the attention of others to the new arrivals and a stout man moved in their direction. "Baron, glad you made it. Your hounds?"

"New man at the stables. He should have left earlier, but I trust he shall be here shortly."

Claudius felt no compulsion to stay with the others. He knew where the young men could be found in the house having glasses of wine prior to the hunt and went to join them. Kitty dismounted, but stayed near the horses. "Let me speak with Mrs. March for a moment," Titus said to Vivien. The blond witch waited nervously, unsure of what she should do since no formal introductions had been made to anyone. Despite the lack of introductions the men outside the house began to gravitate in her direction.

Mr. Malfoy received a cheery greeting from the older woman, "Titus, good to see you. Good to see Sparta too. Wondered if you'd put him out to stud."

"That was my desire. I have a house guest who insisted he be ridden."

The woman laughed, "Glad you listened to reason. Damn fine animal. Who are these two fillies you brought with you?"

"I assume that you mean Miss Kestrel and her companion, Miss Kelly. Miss Kestrel is a distant relative. Miss Kelly is the one who insists Sparta be ridden. She is quite a rider. She'll probably be up at the head today."

"Sparta doesn't know another position. Introduce me to the young woman."

"She is not really—"

"I want to know who I'll be riding with."

Titus sighed, and called Miss Kelly over to make introductions. "Mrs. March, I would like to introduce you to Catherine Kelly. Miss Kelly, may I introduce Mrs. April March. Mrs. March is usually at the head of the riders and—"

"I'm always at the head," Mrs. March interrupted. "Titus said he thinks you're quite a rider."

"Kitty, m'am," the Irish girl said, and stuck out her hand for the older woman to shake. "Raised with horses. Think my mount's a bit out of shape, but if the chase isn't long he'll be fine."

The older woman chuckled, "Raised with horses myself. Don't know if Titus here told you, but I have the finest stables in the county. Sparta was foaled there, wouldn't have sold him if I'd known how well he'd turn out." She turned to Mr. Malfoy, "I must have you to dinner while this one's here. She seems like an interesting creature."

"She is that," Titus agreed. While they were talking Clarence arrived with the dog cart and Kitty, believing her part in the conversation was over, walked over to help with the hounds.

"So, that other one… You said her name was Kestrel?"

"Yes."

"Wife for Claudius?"

"No."

"Considering it?"

"No."

"Emma used to say she sometimes despaired of finding a good fit. Never told me why, don't suppose you'd care to elaborate."

"April, if you had not been such a friend to Emma I would find that exceedingly rude."

"Pish-tush, it's exceedingly rude even if I was Emma's friend. Care to tell me what's wrong with the girl, the men are swarming around her like flies and honey."

"She is a city girl, no sense of the country."

"One can learn."

"She is also vain and far too certain of herself – she has succeeded in life because of her beauty and relies on her physical appearance rather than character."

"Anything wrong with her character?"

"Not that I know of, I really scarcely know her."

"Well, city mouse out here in the country… Any chance you are considering her for yourself?"

"April!"

"Oh, don't protest like that. You're not so old and not so plain. You're the best catch for forty miles in any direction. If I were twenty years younger I'd be chasing you myself. Which reminds me, some sister of Bedford here today – up at the house primping I believe. What I hear she'll be hunting you rather than the fox today."

"So both she and Abigail?"

"What was it that novelist said, something about 'a single man in possession of a large fortune must be in want of a wife.'?"

"I am not interested."

"Well, you should be. Emma wanted you to be happy."

"I do not believe that marriage is a prerequisite for happiness. You didn't remarry."

"If the right man came along I wouldn't hesitate. I still don't see what is wrong with Abbie… Except the rest of her family, of course. You shouldn't hold that against her. Maybe you'll be more interested in Lydia Bedford – that's her name, Lydia. Less dowry than Abbie – not that you need a dowry."

"I require neither dowry nor a wife, but I appreciate the warning."

"If you really wish to avoid them ask George to put you in as whip. He's hunt master himself today."

As the hour for the hunt arrived Claudius and the young men in the house came outside, with most of the group joining the throng around Vivien. Abigail made her way towards Titus as he was introduced to Lydia Bedford. Abigail glared at her rival and Titus said a little prayer of thanks that he had taken the advice of Mrs. March. Serving as whip allowed him the opportunity to politely avoid the muggle women who would be hunting him. Kitty stayed with the horses, and April March noted with surprise how well her own mount, who tended to be skittish around strangers, accepted the presence of the Irish girl.

Soon the hounds were cast and everyone was on horseback, moving across a field. Sparta, by force of long-established habit, took his place by Mrs. March's mount in the first field. "He's not back to full strength," the older woman commented.

"I'll pull him back if the ride goes long," Kitty promised. "He wants a good run."

Kitty patted Sparta's neck to keep him calm before the horn sounded, and April March demanded to know why it was taking so long for the hounds to pick up a scent.

The Irish girl almost lost her mount at the second hedge. "Are you all right?" the older woman asked.

"Not used to riding in a skirt." Seeing the question in the older woman's eyes she explained, "I like to wear trousers when I ride."

"You can only ride as well as a man if you wear trousers," Mrs. March warned her. "A lady should be able to both wear a skirt and jump."

"Yes, m'am," she promised, "I'll watch you."

Vivien rode with the second field, but even with the gaters she did not feel secure in the saddle and it was obvious the pretty witch was the slowest of the group. She beckoned the men around her to leave her and join the others – more because she didn't want them to observe how poorly she rode than for any displeasure at being the center of masculine attention.

The baying of the hounds encouraged the second field to increase their pace, and soon Vivien was lost from them, and any landmarks she might possibly recognize, entirely. She would have turned around and head back to the home of their hosts – but was confused about directions and realized she could not find her way.

The fox managed to go to ground. There was a discussion about whether it should be dug out and killed, but those in favor of observing the season won the argument and it was spared.

Mr. Malfoy spent the ride back between two women making desperate efforts to fascinate him, and like Kitty, who was engaged in conversation with Mrs. March, didn't even realize Vivien was missing.

Back at the Whitley's the hunters left their horses to be cared for, but Kitty called for a curry comb and began to work on Sparta herself.

"You should let the help take care of the horses," Mrs. March told her.

"Want it done right should do it yourself, my Da always said," the redhead replied. "Besides, I want to check him over after the ride, see what shape he's in."

Despite her youth the Irish girl clearly understood horses and the older woman stayed to watch her work on Sparta.

"Did your father have other words of wisdom in regard to horses?" the older woman asked.

"Not a man alive knows more about horses than my Da. People come from miles to have him treat any ailments. He can fix any problem except maybe death itself – and he's cheated the reaper a few times."

Mrs. March smiled, "Your loyalty is to be commended."

"Not loyalty," Kitty insisted. "God's own truth."

After looking after the hounds Mr. Malfoy and Clarence came over to where Claudius's horse stood and Kitty worked on Sparta.

"Clarence should do that," Titus told her.

"She believes she can do a better job," April told him, with a tone of amusement. "And she seems remarkably capable. She claims her father has powers just short of miraculous."

"Did'na say that," Kitty corrected her. "He can do miracles, just not every time."

Clarence gave her a look of hatred no one noticed, resenting her actions because he viewed them as an insult to his abilities.

"I just figure Clarence'll be busy," Kitty said, "got four horses to do an' all." She looked around. "Where is Viv?"

"I haven't seen her since the hunt started."

"Neither have I."

"She was riding with the second field," Mrs. March pointed out. She looked around and noticed one of the riders from the second group. "Willy!" she bellowed, "over here!"

It was a tone of voice that brought the young man over at a trot. "Yes."

"Miss Kestrel?"

"What?"

"The pretty blond. What happened to her?"

"I... She had some trouble keeping up with the other riders and told us to go on. I imagined she came back here. Isn't she here?"

"Don't be daft, boy. Would I be asking about her if she were here?"

While William pondered the answer to her riddle Titus Malfoy got back on his horse, which had not been unsaddled.

"Want some help?" Mrs. March offered.

"I could put a saddle back on Sparta," Kitty added.

"Miss Kestrel is my guest, and therefore my responsibility," he told the women. He gave Mrs. March a wink, "And it's probably much safer for me to be away from the hunters."

He frowned as he followed the trail, it was so clearly marked by the passage of the horses Vivien should have been able to follow it back. As a witch she could have handled any threat of muggle violence, and he felt fairly certain that, given her riding skills, she would not have attempted a jump. On the other hand, if she had gotten overconfident and attempted a jump, she could be lying hurt by some hedge or fence. Sam could also have been startled and thrown her. He began to wish he had accepted help in the search for the missing witch.

He discovered Vivien a moment later, standing beside her horse some fifty yards from the hunters' path and looking uncertain. "Are you all right?"

"I got lost."

"The track of the horses is here, why didn't you follow it back?"

"It is? I didn't see it."

"The hoof marks are quite plain."

"Well I didn't see them."

"It doesn't matter, mount up and let's go back."

"I'd rather not."

"You'd rather not go back?"

"I'd rather not get back on the horse."

"It's a good three miles back to the house."

"Three miles? I... I can walk, just please point me in the proper direction."

"Is there some reason for this behavior?"

"What behavior do you mean? Isn't it a beautiful day for a walk?"

"Did Sam throw you, and you are afraid to get back on?"

"Sam has behaved in a perfect manner. I simply feel like walking."

"And I feel that is very odd behavior under the circumstances."

"There is nothing odd in walking!"

"It still appears to me that you..." Titus paused. "How much practice have you had the last few days in riding?"

Vivien blushed and said nothing.

"Blisters?" he asked. She said nothing. "Is that the reason?" he demanded. Vivien nodded.

Titus sighed. He was almost tempted to leave her out in the field for misrepresenting her riding ability, but she was his guest and his responsibility. And, in addition, there were two muggle women lying in wait to ambush him on his return. He dismounted, "I'll walk back with you. I wouldn't want you to lose your way again."

"Thank you." As they walked back she sought a topic of conversation other than the reason she wanted to travel on foot, "What happened with the hunt?"

He described the hunt, or at least that portion of it which he had seen, for a mile before returning to her condition. "Will you be able to ride back to my home?"

"I'm sure I... Or rather, I hope that in a couple hours I... If I had the proper ingredients I know a potion that... I don't know."

"Claudius sometimes took the dogcart home and our old stableman would ride his horse. Can you handle the cart? There are cushions on it."

Vivien ventured to guess Claudius would only take the cart if he had consumed more wine than was appropriate, but didn't voice her suspicion. "I'm not certain... Maybe Kitty could drive me."

"Perhaps," he said, simply to acknowledge having heard her.

They walked a quarter mile in silence, then Vivien spoke, "I had no idea there were so many rules associated with the country."

"I don't imagine there are any more than the number associated with the city."

"I can learn them," she insisted. "I do not think they are wrong, simply different. I will learn."

"I don't believe you will need to worry about hunting etiquette," he told her. "There will be no more exercises during your visit. Riding is a skill you might wish to continue practicing, however."

"I will learn what is expected when hunting," Vivien promised. _"It will be a duty when I am mistress of the estate."_

They lapsed back into silence, which was broken by the arrival of two women riders.

Abigail and Lydia both glared at the pretty witch walking beside Titus Malfoy and for a moment he considered pretending a preference for Vivien in order to shield himself from the muggles, but quickly dismissed the lie as inappropriate.

"Are you all right?" Abigail asked.

"I was worried about you," Lydia assured him.

"Mrs. March said you'd ridden out–"

"Miss Kestrel is a guest at my home," he explained. "She did not return from the hunt and I worried she had been thrown."

"Is she all right?" Lydia asked Titus, not really caring, but desiring to look concerned.

Abigail questioned him also, "Why aren't you riding? Did her horse throw her? Did he throw a shoe?"

Vivien said nothing, being ashamed of losing her way and not wishing to mention why she wasn't riding.

"Miss Kestrel is visiting from London, and finds our air so delightful she desired to walk back to the Whitleys."

"I- I lost my way," Vivien admitted. "Mr Malfoy found me and was showing me the proper direction."

The story appeared highly suspicious to Abigail, who wondered if this pretty girl wanted to flatter Titus by appearing weak and helpless. If that were her ploy it was doomed to fail – Abigail knew that from personal experience. She wasn't certain which of the other women to fear more. Lydia's move into the neighborhood marked her as a long term rival. The girl was young and lovely, and staying at the Malfoy home - a potentially very dangerous rival indeed. The gossip back at the Whitleys, however, was that she might marry Claudius. Abigail decided she should make an effort to establish a good relationship with her future daughter-in-law and dismounted. "I'll walk with you."

Lydia cursed inwardly, she did not enjoy a lengthy walk. Still, if her brother was correct Baron Malfoy had little interest in Abigail. That meant Abie would provide a necessary distraction from the young woman - should he be interested in her. She smiled, the two other women would certainly perspire from their exertions and she might be wise not to appear too forward. "I'll go back and tell everyone you are fine and returning."

Their hosts provided light refreshment while the hunters' mounts rested for their return journeys. To the dismay of Titus Malfoy he was unable to escape his pursuers. The gravitational pull of Vivien's beauty once again attracted many of the young men, and even some of the older men who prayed their wives were not looking. To Vivien's dismay, however, Claudius was not among their number - returning to the delights of a very fine French vintage in the house. Although not especially interested in hunting, Kitty's riding skill had brought her to the attention of several riders in the first field and she remained near Mrs. March. The other riders appreciated a new pair of ears to regale with stories of past hunts, Kitty suspected the majority of the tales were greatly exaggerated if not outright lies.

Vivien heard many references to the Glorious Twelfth, but wasn't certain what the topic of conversation concerned.

Late in the afternoon Mr. Malfoy thanked the Whitleys and announced it was time for his party to return home. He declined another offer for the four of them to stay for dinner and spend the night and went to find Claudius.

As he feared, Claudius was not in a condition to ride. "You can drive the dogcart. Miss Kestrel will ride with you."

"Trying to throw us together," his son asked, slurring his words slightly, "or find out she has no business on a horse?"

"She is not incompetent, merely inexperienced. And I think she has reached the limits of her ability for the day."

Titus might not have regarded it as trying to throw the two young people together, but Vivien certainly meant to take advantage of the opportunity on the return journey.

After a mile of silence the other riders were nowhere to be seen and Vivien opened the conversation. "I believe your father invited me for the visit because he considered me a possible marriage partner for you."

"I believe it more likely he had his eye on Lizzy."

"I–"

"Not that it really matters. I like you better."

"Thank you. And I–"

"But if the truth be known, I've no intention of marrying. I don't need a wife any more than I need an elephant. Either would be equally worthless to me."

"You might let me finish a sentence."

"Oh, have you anything worthwhile to say?"

"You are exceedingly rude."

"No, but I am slightly drunk. My father can be honest when sober. For me, _in vino veritas_."

"You must marry. It is your responsibility."

"How many years have we known each other... Seven? Have you ever known a person less interested in responsibility?"

"But the property–"

"Is of no interest to me... Oh, in an abstract sort of way the revenues of the property are certainly of interest. Poverty holds even less interest to me than the property. But I'll die without an heir and–"

"You could have–"

"I will let you finish your next sentence if you will let me finish my speech. I will die without heir, and the property will pass to some cousin. If father were old and decrepit I might wait for him to die and give the cousin possession as long as he provides me with a small allowance – enough to live in modest comfort someplace where the name of Malfoy is unknown. But father's health is probably better than my own. And while I love him and wish a long and happy life for him it does rather throw my plans into disarray."

"May I be allowed a speech of my own?"

"You may."

"I will attempt, like your father, to be honest while sober. I like you, but my interest is marriage is strictly for security. I know you have no interest in marriage to me, but marriage would provide you with a cover of respectability. I would not seek to dictate your life and would leave you free to follow your own interests. To all the world it would appear a satisfactory marriage, and in truth it would be – I would have the security I desire and you the freedom to follow your own interests."

He smiled, "You almost make it sound possible."

"I know charms, I know potions. An heir is not out of–"

Claudius lost the smile, "No," he said flatly.

"But–"

"No."

"Why?"

He didn't answer for a minute. "I understand responsibility. I simply don't want any. A child is a responsibility, and one to be taken seriously."

"I could raise a child. You would be free to follow your desires."

"No. If I were to father a child I would recognize that I bore a responsibility. It is why I don't want the property. It is a responsibility. It takes my father's life. That is his choice – I think he devotes too much time to work on the estate since my mother died, but that is his desire. It is not my desire. I want some other choice. I want to go where no one knows me and do as I want. I don't want bishops dropping in. I don't want Whitleys and Bedfords and Marches and other neighbors observing me and my actions."

"I believe your father indicated his father lived very much to himself. Perhaps you could cut off association with the muggles as well."

"And go down to live in the dungeon? No thank you. It is pleasant enough to visit – especially in hot weather – but I wouldn't wish to live there. I want to be able to walk free, when I wish, where I wish, and with whom I wish. But I can't do that here."

"A wife would make it possible."

"No... Tempting as you wish to make it sound, it would not be possible. The name of Malfoy is a millstone around my neck. I told you, I understand responsibility even if I do not wish for any. For more than seven centuries this has been my family's home. I would do nothing to bring disgrace to the name, but I don't want the responsibility that it brings. My needs are few and simple, but not even simplicity is free. I'm cursed. I can neither enjoy freedom if I stay nor can I enjoy poverty if I leave. Happiness is not an option available to me."

"I still think a wife could improve your situation."

"A wife would only be more weight around my neck."

After the conversation much of the trip was spent in silence. Vivien took pen in hand to write Elizabeth on their return.

_Dearest Lizzy,_  
_Finally, the chance to talk with Claudius this afternoon._  
_It did not go as well as I might have wished, but he and_  
_his father are both intelligent men. I am certain that one_  
_will soon be persuaded that I will make an ideal wife_  
_for the son and, with one of them arguing for me the_  
_other will soon be brought to acceptance. After our_  
_conversation it was very clear to me, even if Claudius_  
_does not yet realize it himself, that he greatly needs me_  
_for a wife._  
_Oh, and we went hunting today at the home of some_  
_neighboring muggles. Mr. Malfoy is very well thought_  
_of by everyone here. I was, of course, the center of_  
_attention for the men and am certain several_  
_women were quite jealous. It appears there is much_  
_more to country life than I had imagined, and_  
_riding a horse infinitely more difficult. I am not_  
_currently in a mood to tell you how I learned that_  
_lesson. Kitty was as popular with some neighbors_  
_who raise horses as I was with the men. I had feared_  
_she might do something to embarrass me, but when_  
_horses are the subject she appears at her best. I wish_  
_you were here to offer insights on how to best_  
_present myself._  
_Fondest affection,_  
_Viv_

* * *

Girton College, now part of Cambridge, was founded for women in 1869. Oxford added a women's college, distinct from the university, in 1878. Quaker schools were co-ed earlier. Gilbert & Sullivan mocked women's education in _Princess Ida_, 1884.

'Hello' appears in publications from the 1830s, but earlier forms, such as 'hallo' remained dominate for a number of years.

The Glorious Twelfth (August 12th, start of season for Red Grouse - unless it falls on a Sunday) had been made official with the Game Act of 1831. If conservation was a goal the Game Act had mixed results since it didn't stop the rapid decline in Britain's great bustard population which was soon extinct on the isles.


	6. The Comedy of Errors

**Disclaimer**: Rowling presented seven years of a school which was supposed to have existed for centuries. Hogwarts 1835 had little from canon besides location. Hogwarts 1940 could serve as a prequel to the canon books. This sequel to 1835 has little from canon but a few family names and a location or two, but those are from Rowling's books. Similarities to any person, living are dead, with the characters in this story is an amazing coincidence.

My parameters for what constitutes canon are defined at the end of chapter one.

**Chapter 6 – The Comedy of Errors**

"What should I know about the church?" Vivien asked as the Malfoy party rode in the carriage on Sunday morning.

"It is our duty to attend," Claudius yawned.

"That is not what she meant," Titus told his son, with a touch of reproach. He turned back to Vivien, "The Reverend Henley is decidedly low church, which perhaps explains why the Bishop passes him over. But he has a keen intellect and a deep concern for those in his parish. I am certain he will eventually find a position with more demands – and rewards – for his talents."

Vivien sat in the Malfoy family pew with Matthias and the two Malfoys. Kitty had chosen not to attend the Church of England service, which had provoked ridicule from Claudius in regard to her faith not being very secure if she could not attend a non-Catholic service. "Afraid of leaving your Popish superstition if you hear the truth?"

He had wisely stopped as she began to grow red with anger.

After the service Mr. Malfoy invited the clergyman to supper that evening and Matthias promised to provide a ride to Malfoy Hall and back to the rectory.

Although she would have been ashamed to admit it, even Kitty enjoyed the Reverend Henley's presence at the table. He listened more than he spoke (an ability unknown to Bishop Ffolkes) and displayed a sensible wit in his conversation. He spoke of parishioners with Mr. Malfoy, who were all tenets on Malfoy land, but there was no sense of gossip. The reverend brought families to his attention for commendation and suggested, as landlord, that Mr. Malfoy do something to help one family where the husband had broken an arm. After some hesitation he asked Mr. Malfoy to look in on a family with "domestic problems."

"May I ask what sort of domestic problems?"

"I... I would prefer not to bias your observation. I pray that my fears are unfounded but... If you could form your own opinion I would be grateful for any insight."

"If it is a case of domestic unhappiness I think the clergy would provide a more appropriate voice than the landlord."

"It is a matter of authority, and if a parishioner will not listen there is nothing I can do. You have greater authority in regard to recalcitrant parishioners than I."

"And what would you have me do, put them off the land?"

"No. I... I have no idea on an appropriate course of action – and I certainly have no desire to see the innocent suffer. My prayer would be that you will tell me you find no hint of a problem and that you fear my imagination has gotten the better of me. Or, should you also find a domestic disturbance I pray you might find a way to address the issue."

"I will stop at their home this week," Titus Malfoy promised, "although without a clear idea of what I'm looking for I'm uncertain what I will see."

"Thank you, sir."

Claudius sighed silently, wishing his father would let the muggle tenants take care of themselves.

Vivien still didn't feel up to riding on Monday, but Claudius took her on a walking tour of the grounds in the morning while Kitty exercised Sparta.

Late in the morning Claudius left for a ride of his own and Matthias suggested that Vivien attempt to charm Yorick in hopes of discovering his history.

Mr. Prewett brought the skull in its crystal dome up from the dungeon and placed it on a reading table in the library before removing the dome. Mr. Malfoy joined Matthias and Vivien as the pretty witch prepared to cast her charms on the family heirloom. Kitty, too repulsed by the skull to join the others, merely pretended to read a book and listened intently as they discussed their plans to question the artifact.

"Why am I here," the sepulchral voice demanded when the dome was removed, as the lower mandible moved and green fire once more glowed in the empty eye sockets.

"I'm hoping for some information," Matthias explained, "and since you've never been cooperative I'm hoping this young witch will wrest your story from you."

"You are wasting your time and mine," the skull boasted.

"Our time is our own to do with as we see fit," Titus reminded him. "And surely being here is better than oblivion under the dome."

"Don't undervalue death," the skull argued. "It has its own advantages – I speak as one who knows both life and death. And oblivion is preferable to cognizance in the damn house of Malfoy. You cannot make me answer your questions."

"I suspect you are correct," Titus admitted, "but it is worth trying." He turned to Vivien, "Miss Kestrel, please proceed."

Viv licked her lips nervously. She had never read of anything like Yorick in her Dark Arts textbooks. She knew several charms that might be used to wrest answers from a living person and three with limited value in questioning domestic animals. She glanced at Matthias, "I'm not sure what to do."

"You might try throwing yourself from a high window," Yorick suggested. "You have as much chance of flying as charming me."

Kitty giggled slightly from her chair and Vivien glared at her, "I was, uh, reading something humorous," Kitty lied.

"I believe I'll start with some simpler charms and move to the more complex if necessary," Vivien told Matthias, who nodded in agreement. She applied a charm and demanded, "Tell us your name!"

"I am insulted you would use such a charm on me," the skull retorted. "For that I will tell you nothing."

"What was the charm?" Titus asked.

"It... It was..." Vivien stammered.

"It was a charm for dogs, to make them retrace their steps so that you will know where they have been," Yorick explained.

"Why did you use that?" Matthias asked.

"Well, he isn't human... Not anymore anyway, so I thought I'd try the spells not intended for humans first."

"An insult," the skull grumbled. "Damn house of Malfoy."

"You could try answering polite questions," Mr. Prewett reminded him, "then we wouldn't need to try charms."

The charms she next tried after the initial failure produced no information either. Finally Vivien had two charms left to try. After using the first of the pair she again demanded, "Tell us your name!"

"Robert."

"It worked! It worked!" Matthias exclaimed, dancing with joy. "Let me ask... Ask him... No, a pen! I need a pen and parchment! There is so much I– Let me me get a pen and parchment." He ran over to the table where he did his research and returned with his tools, kneeling at the library table. "May I ask a question?"

"Yes," Vivien told him.

"No," the skull answered.

"You won't answer his questions?" Vivien demanded.

"Who placed the charm?" Yorick replied.

"Ask him for a more complete name," Matthias suggested, "some of his own history."

"I thought you wanted to know what kind of spell was used to make him as he is," Vivien answered.

"Everything! I want to know everything. Start at the beginning."

Vivien sighed, everything could take a long time. "Robert, do you have a more complete name? Could you tell us something of your family?"

"Robert of the King's Green," the skull answered in a flat tone. "I am the illegitimate son of John of Gaunt and a witch named Matilda."

Matthias wrote frantically, scribbling down every word the skull uttered and firing off questions for Vivien to ask. Even Kitty dropped all pretense of reading and listened with awe as the epic unfolded.

After almost an hour of questions and writing there was an angry, "What are you doing?" from the doorway and Claudius strode into the library.

Matthias looked up, "Miss Kestrel has charmed–"

"Are you all right?" Claudius asked, and it was obvious the question was directed at the skull on the table.

"Claudius?" the skull asked.

"Yes. I'm sorry, it has been too long."

"Don't trouble yourself on my account. I lose track of time when under the dome."

"Are you all right?"

An evil laugh filled the library, "Never better. They have entertained me by listening to my lies while this fool with a pen transcribed every word."

"But I charmed you," Vivien protested, feeling foolish.

"You attempted to charm me. You failed."

Matthias felt even more foolish as he stared at the pages of parchment, filled with apparently worthless writings.

"You know my son?" Titus demanded of the skull.

"Isn't the question superfluous when the evidence is before you?"

"I was in the dungeon, years ago, on a hot day and lifted the dome," Titus explained. "He seemed the most amazing thing in the collection."

"And while I deeply resent being considered part of a collection I found young Claudius the first, and perhaps only, Malfoy worth my time."

"Do you know his real name?" Matthias asked eagerly.

"Whether I did, or did not, I would not divulge the information without his consent," Claudius told him.

"I still have another charm I can try," Vivien reminded them.

"Not on my friend," Claudius told her. He picked up the stand supporting the skull and left the room.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the library. Kitty went quietly back to reading her book and the others did not mention the attempts to question the skull.

The atmosphere was slowly returning to normal a half-hour later when Gordon Sloper entered the library. "One of Mrs. March's servants," he informed his master.

"I'll see him." Titus left the library to hear the message.

The man was covered with dust and looked like he had ridden hard to reach the Malfoy home. Titus knew April would not approve of a horse being treated in such a manner for such a distance without good reason.

"Your errand?" Mr. Malfoy asked.

"Three horses took ill, one bad. Mistress at wit's end. Asked me to find where some girl's father lived. I believe the name was Kelly."

"Miss Kelly. Yes, she is a guest here." He turned to Gordon, who nodded to indicate he had heard and left to fetch Kitty.

The Irish girl arrived a minute later. "You won't be getting help from my Da," she told the man when he asked his question, "too far away. What are the symptoms?"

"Heart arrhythmia, muscle spasms, excessive mattering of the eyes, and diarrhea."

"Did you bring shit?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Did you bring shit? Those are symptoms for several different problems. If you brought me a sample I might have been able to diagnose the problem."

The servant looked confused, "I was asked to locate your father. I–"

"Well, you'll not be finding him. I've got a lot of his learning even if I've not much of his experience. I'll go back with you and–"

"He looks like he needs a rest," Titus Malfoy interrupted, "and I'm certain his mount does."

"Well I don't know the way!"

"Which was why I was going to suggest Mr. Prewett take you in the gig, he knows the route."

Mrs. March's servant went to the stable to help Clarence prepare the gig for travel while Matthias changed clothes and Kitty frantically rummaged through the potion ingredients available at the Hall.

"Don't you have anything fresh?" she grumbled at Mr. Malfoy, who stood in the doorway of the potions room.

"I never had an interest in potions," he told her. "There were a few things my wife brewed – those would be the newer items. I fear most ingredients will date back to my father's time."

She almost scolded him for not stocking some very basic materials, but remembered in time he was her host and that it was not his job to keep items he had no use for on hand.

Fourteen minutes after the servant had first spoken to Mr. Malfoy the gig stood ready and Kitty jumped into the seat beside Matthias and ordered him, "Drive fast."

"How far away are the March stables?" Vivien asked as she ate dinner with Titus and Claudius that evening.

"About thirty miles," Titus told her. "Mrs. March lives on the other side of the Whitleys."

Vivien frowned, "So Kitty is unlikely to return tonight."

"I suspect that is true."

"What are your plans for the morrow?"

"I had planned to look in on the family Reverend Henley asked me to visit. Then I had other tenants my steward and I would visit."

"You realize that it would be entirely inappropriate for me to remain here alone with only Claudius in the house."

"You know that Claudius will not trouble you."

"I have, in my life, avoided even the appearance of evil. Spending the day alone with him could look scandalous even when everything remains innocent."

"You are being ridiculous," Claudius told her.

Titus thought a few seconds before speaking to his son, "No, she is correct. The appearance would be inappropriate." He looked over at Vivien. "I will see if I can postpone the work until Miss Kelly returns."

"No," she told him, "your work is important to the running of your property."

"But you said it would be inappropriate to stay here, alone with Claudius."

"Oh, it would be," she agreed. Both men already knew her intentions so she determined to be honest with them. "I will go out with you and your steward tomorrow," she told Titus. "It is important for Mrs. Malfoy to have some familiarity with running the property."

Father looked at son. "She didn't get the idea from me," Claudius told his father.

"Well I've told her I won't force you into a marriage."

"The estate needs a mistress," Vivien told them. "And I am the best qualified woman for the job."

"I have already told you that you are not appropriate as a fiancee," Mr. Malfoy reminded her.

"She is Slytherin," Claudius remarked, "and we do tend to be ambitious."

"You are intelligent men, you will see I am correct."

"Where does ambition end and imagination begin," Titus sighed.

"We can discuss that tomorrow while I accompany you on your errands," Vivien told him. "Now, having dressed incorrectly more than once I would like advice on what would be appropriate tomorrow. Will I be riding or taking a vehicle?"

"The riding habit adopted from my wife would be appropriate for either."

"Will the roads allow the gig?"

"Yes, but that is the vehicle Matthias and Miss Kelly took."

"Then I shall take the dogcart. It is important for the tenants to meet the future Mrs. Malfoy."

"You will not introduce yourself to anyone in such manner, and–"

"I would not dream of it. Such a thing would be entirely inappropriate until after you ask my mother for my hand."

Titus Malfoy paused a second to keep his temper in check, "Were it not necessary for the preservation of your reputation I certainly would not allow you to accompany me."

"But you do recognize it is necessary. That is a testimony both to your intelligence and sense of propriety. I–"

"Flattery will not change my mind."

"That isn't flattery. And false modesty will not make me change my opinion."

"Miss Kestrel, I find–"

"Why don't you tell Viv of your discovery over backgammon this evening," Claudius suggested with a yawn. "I mean to turn in early. I give you the edge in terms of logic," he told his father, "but Viv has an unholy streak of persistence. If you had not promised me that you would not force me into marriage I might be concerned – but your devotion to your word is more than equal to her stubbornness."

Titus Malfoy clenched his jaws to keep from speaking. He suspected Claudius would sneak out from the house rather than turning in early. The house elves had reported such behavior to Gordon three times since Claudius had returned home and Titus had confirmation from one occasion in which he had gone to his son's bedroom with a question soon after Claudius had said he was retiring for the night. He turned instead to Vivien, "Miss Kestrel, backgammon this evening?"

She smiled and nodded, "Thank you. I would enjoy it very much."

"To insure my own enjoyment I would prefer we speak of anything other than the topic of conversation a moment ago. I would even prefer you talk of the latest fashions in London."

"I suggest we find a topic of mutual interest. I was reading... Do you attend the theater during the winter in the city?"

"Not as much the last few years, but yes."

Vivien guessed the death of his wife was the reason for fewer visits, but didn't express her thought. "Then let us discuss the theater."

He gave a very small smile and nodded in agreement. Vivien suspected he agreed merely to be polite. The proposal actually pleased him more than talking of Vivien's dreams or fashion, but he was too concerned about Claudius to show his preference. He was also preoccupied during the games and Vivien beat him soundly in several games before the two retired to their rooms for the night.


	7. Twelfth Night

**Disclaimer**: JK Rowling presented seven years of a school which was supposed to have existed for centuries. Hogwarts 1835 had little from canon besides location. Hogwarts 1940 could serve as a prequel to the canon books. This sequel to 1835 has little from canon but a few family names and a location or two, but those are from Rowling. Similarities to any person, living are dead, with the characters in this story is an amazing coincidence.

My parameters for what constitutes canon are defined at the end of chapter one.

**Chapter 7 – Twelfth**** Night**

Vivien spent extra time before going down to breakfast the next morning with cosmetics and appearance charms, feeling it was important to be viewed by her future tenants in the best possible light. Her efforts failed to impress Mr. Malfoy, however, who felt it confirmed his opinion that the blond witch was more concerned with her beauty than matters of substance.

Mr. Malfoy's horse was saddled and the dogcart ready when the two went out to the stable.

Clarence took off his cap in his master's presence, "Beggin' yer pardon, m'lord, but the other young lady?"

"I don't know how long Miss Kelly might stay with Mrs. March. What were you told yesterday?"

"Nothin'... Just take out the gig... And take care o' that lathered up horse."

"Three of Mrs. March's horses have taken ill and Miss Kelly will attempt to nurse them back to health. It might be several days before she is able to return. Mrs. March's servant will probably return there today."

"Thank you, m'lord." The news of Kitty's ability with equine medicine served to further aggravate Clarence's jealous hatred toward the young woman.

As they rode toward the cottage of the estate manager Vivien managed a cheery, "It is a beautiful day!"

Mr. Malfoy found her presence more than a little grating, but if she were to be with him for most of the day he knew he should keep up the appearance of civility. "Yes," he agreed. "Are you comfortable with the reins?"

"Slightly terrified," she admitted.

"If you prefer we can return to the Manor. I can conduct my business later."

"No. I need practice, and I am curious about..." She fell silent.

"Curious about?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"The, ah, estate. Seeing the estate."

"That sounds like a very poor lie."

"It was the best I could do on the spur of the moment."

"Does it have anything to do with your quest to become mistress of this estate?"

"No," she answered truthfully.

"Well, what is it then?"

"I would rather not say."

"Which, of course, makes me all the more curious. It was apparently something for which you hoped to find an answer while accompanying me this morning, which means it probably it relates to me."

"You are very discerning."

"Now, pray, are you hoping to find some Achilles heel by which you might attack me?"

"Not at all," she blushed. "The amount of time... You seem so busy with..."

"Ah, Claudius feels I spend too much time on work that would be better done by a steward."

"You are out almost every day."

The master of the estate sighed. "My grandfather and father were quite set in their ways and had no desire to change with the times. They found stewards who were compliant with their wishes, and the tenants found it easier to keep their traditional methods than risk the wrath of the landlord. This was probably the last land in Britain to be enclosed and is a century behind the rest of the nation in productivity. My steward, Frederick Trotter, is an extremely capable man. But even the most capable estate manager in the world lacks the authority of the landlord. My tenants resented the changes at first – some of them still do – but many of them are starting to see the benefits of change. The more they come to see the advantages for themselves the less work there is for me to do. Claudius has spent much of his time at Hogwarts these last seven years. He doesn't realize how much time is required for the task. In a few years I may be able to leave everything in Mr. Trotter's hands. I am doing less now, whether Claudius comprehends that or not."

"You could bring in new tenants, that might make the changes go more quickly."

"I will not. Some of these families have worked this land for generations and I won't throw anyone off without good reason."

"Well then, it is important that his wife have an understanding of what is necessary on the estate."

"Miss Kestrel, I tire of reminding you that you will not marry my son."

"Then you should consider dropping the matter."

He said no more on the way to his steward's cottage. A couple miles from the Hall a man waited on horseback outside a substantial stone home with a thatched roof. The stranger touched his hat in respect as the two rode up.

"Miss Kestrel, this is Frederick Trotter, my steward. Mr. Trotter, Miss Kestrel. Miss Kestrel is a distant relative visiting the Hall. She is from the City and thought she might enjoy seeing some of the farms."

"It'll be a quiet day. Think most of the tenants to the north are doing well. Not sure you need to visit them."

"I would have been willing to stay home, but Reverend Henley asked me to look in on the Throutons – although he was vague on why he made his request."

The steward shook his head sadly, "There's a family what's not doing well."

Miss Kestrel first impression of Mr. Trotter was a hard man, his hands were stained with dirt too deeply imbedded to be washed out and his clothes were suitable to climbing into a ditch and helping right an over-turned wagon. As they rode north, she listened to him converse with Mr. Malfoy and realized she probably didn't understand half of what he was saying. Her host, however, listened attentively and asked questions which showed he understood what was being said and the implications of the discussion. Vivien revised her estimation of Mr. Trotter somewhat, he appeared to be as capable of working with his mind as he was with working with his body. She ventured a couple timid questions when she felt especially lost in the discussion and he answered with patience and clarity.

At the first stop that morning Mr. Malfoy and his steward asked the tenant about sugar beets. He answered with pride they were developing nicely and invited the men to see their progress. The two dismounted and invited Vivien to join them, but she looked at the dirt path to the field and declined.

While she waited in the cart a small girl came over and stared at her. Miss Kestrel smiled at the child, which encouraged her to timidly ask, "Help me gather eggs?"

"Hush, Bessie," her mother called, "leave the lady alone."

Vivien, not knowing how long the men might be, desired something to do other than sitting in the cart. "I've never gathered eggs before," she admitted to the girl, "can you show me how it's done?"

The girl smiled and nodded.

"No need for that," the mother explained, coming over to remove the child.

"No. I'm from the city. If Bessie could show me how it is done I'd like to help her."

The little girl appeared to be in a state of rapture as she led the young woman around the yard and explained the search. When the men returned from their examination of the crop the girl was seated by Vivien on the dog cart, telling her about life on the farm. Bessie was disappointed to hear that Miss Kestrel had to leave. "Please come back," she pleaded.

"I am a guest at the home of Mr. Malfoy," she explained. "I will probably not be out again." The little girl looked so unhappy Vivien promised, "But if he tells me he will be at your home again I will ask to accompany him."

The child gave her an impulsive hug to the amusement of the men and the horror of the girl's mother, "Bessie! You'll get her dirty."

At the second farm a tenant had accused his neighbor of stealing chickens. Vivien joined the search which circled the farm in search of clues. When Mr. Trotter called everyone over to show them fox tracks and blood Vivien could see the blood, but what the others saw as fox tracks appeared meaningless to her.

"Set a snare," Mr. Malfoy advised his steward.

On the third farm Miss Kestrel watched three children playing a noisy game she guessed was some sort of tag as Mr. Trotter and Mr. Malfoy inspected another field. She shouted encouragement at the youngest boy, who had some trouble keeping up with his older and larger siblings.

The men appeared to enjoy a noontime meal in the public house of a small village, or at least they partook of it more readily than Miss Kestrel, who was accustomed to better fare. She poked at the bangers on the greasy plate set in front of her, ate little and drank nothing.

"You will insult the publican if you eat nothing," Mr. Malfoy teased.

"I will insult my stomach if I do," she answered.

At the end of the meal Mr. Trotter sighed, "Time to call on the Throutons."

"Reverend Henley would not explain his concerns for fear it might prejudice my opinion," Mr. Malfoy said as they rode toward the farm, "but I don't wish to begin in complete ignorance. What can you tell me of their situation?"

"I believe he drinks more than he ought, and the habit shows itself in his tillage and treatment of his family."

"Sounds like reason enough for Reverend Henley's concern. I don't suppose you have any suggestions for dealing with the situation, since I can think of nothing."

"I fear I cannot help you. I pray you can think of something to improve the situation. There are several tenants too regular in their devotion to Saint Monday, but his problems extend throughout the week."

On her visit to the first farm that morning Vivien had initially thought the family very poor. As she had helped Bessie gather eggs her perception had altered. Walking through the city she could see hundreds of the destitute – without enough to eat, proper clothing, or a place to stay. The farm was distant from the advantageous of the City, but the little girl was happy and healthy. The air was clear. Her clothing was practical and clean. The cottage, if small, was strongly built and in good repair. The visits to the next two farms had reinforced her new view. The Throuton farm was obviously different. Miss Kestrel glanced at Mr. Malfoy and saw his jaw tighten at the sight of the woman in ragged clothing in the small garden plot outside the home.

He glanced at Vivien. She thought he was going to say something, but he remained silent.

At the earlier farms the arrival of the steward had been expected and the men had waited for the visit. "What field is your husband in?" Mr. Trotter called as they rode up."

"He's… He's in the house," the woman stammered.

"Mr. Malfoy and I were nearby and thought we'd see how the crops were doing. May we speak with him?"

The woman hesitated and Vivien thought she saw a look of fear in her eyes, but the fear was not great enough to contradict the wishes of the landlord. "Dickie," she called, "Dickie!" A young boy in ragged clothing, with stick-thin limbs and visible bruises, peered around the corner of the cottage, where he had hidden with his sister at the approach of the strangers. "Wake up your father."

"Ma!"

"Please. Tell him Mr. Malfoy is outside."

The boy left the door open, in hopes of a speedy exit. The three visitors heard loud cursing from inside the house, and Vivien winced at a sound which sounded like a blow, which was followed by a child's scream. A few minutes later a bleary-eyed man staggered out of the house. "Sorry," he apologized as he tried to stuff the tails of his dirty shirt into his trousers, "not expectin' nuthin'."

"We were in the vicinity inspecting farms," Mr. Trotter told him. "May we see your fields?"

Like his wife a moment earlier he appeared to want to say no to a request, but like his wife he could not say no to the landowner.

Vivien decided that Mr. Malfoy had been going to ask her to speak with the wife, but that he had either come to the conclusion that the problem was obvious, and therefore conversation would be superfluous, or, that as a guest it was not her place to interfere. Vivien, however, decided to proceed as if he had trusted her to act independently and speak with the wife and children.

The wife apparently did not wish to speak with Vivien. She called, "Dickie!" and the child emerged from the house, crying and rubbing his left arm.

The woman went to comfort her child as Vivien climbed down from the cart.

"May I see boy?" the blond witch asked.

The woman looked at her, uncertain what to say, as Vivien came close and murmured what might have sounded like vague words of comfort as she gently stroked the boy's arm. The words were actually a healing charm and his tears stopped. "It don't hurt no more, Ma."

The mother hugged the child briefly, "Go watch your sister."

"Would you introduce me to your sister?" Miss Kestrel asked the boy.

He looked to his mother. Vivien saw many levels of terror in the woman's eyes and guessed that part of it was fear of being evicted from the land. Unable to refuse any request of the young woman who travelled with the landlord the woman nodded to her son.

The children were showing Vivien two rows of potatoes they were responsible for when the men returned. None of the three looked happy. Vivien only caught a few of Mr. Trotter's words, but the tone sounded threatening, "... overgrown ... back in a week..."

"We're leaving," Mr. Malfoy told Vivien curtly. She guessed the anger in his voice had nothing to do with her, but moved quickly the cart, passing closely by the husband as she did so.

The visit to the Throuton farm left all the visitors frustrated. The ride home, at least as far as Mr. Trotter's home, was entirely silent. When his steward left Mr. Malfoy rode beside the cart and tried to find a topic of conversation.

"I was surprised by how easily you played with the children."

"I think... Perhaps it is because I'm an only child. The accident that killed my father happened when I was very young. I always envied my friends with siblings. Miss Gray had two brothers and a sister. I love children."

Mr. Malfoy smiled somewhat sadly, "Being an only child does not seem to have given Claudius any fondness for children."

"I've wondered why... I'm sorry. That is not my concern."

"Emma and I wanted children," he said sadly. "She was never able to carry another baby to term."

Uncertain how to respond Vivien simply said, "I'm sorry."

"So, Claudius was the sun my wife and I revolved around. Perhaps we spoiled him and he wanted no other children to take attention from himself, but he has never shown interest in the children of others."

Vivien shrugged slightly, "We are all different. Some of my friends with siblings expressed sympathy for me, others said they envied me for having my mother's undivided attention."

"I feel sorry for the Throuton children. Like Reverend Henley I wish I had a solution."

"I placed an _ulcisci_ charm on him before we left."

"You what?" Mr. Malfoy demanded in an angry voice.

"An _ulcisci_ charm. I–"

"You placed a charm on one of my muggle tenants?"

"I just said I did."

"How dare you! The Malfoy family has an evil reputation in this region we have been trying to live down, and you bewitched a muggle."

"He deserved it!"

"He deserved to be horse-whipped and dragged behind a wagon, but that is my opinion. There is no court in the land which would convict him for his behavior."

"So, you would do nothing?" Vivien retorted hotly.

"I will not play God," he answered. "I can legally refuse to rent to him – which will deprive his wife and children of the little they have - a roof over their heads and food to eat.

"What is the good of being a wizard if you do nothing with it?"

"I use it for myself. It is not my duty to travel through the countryside, righting wrongs as if I were some sort of magical Robin Hood."

"You want your tenants to prosper, I can see that."

"They prosper by their own toil. I do not use magic."

"Well you should!"

"Listen to yourself! That is the utterance of a dark wizard – believing it is your duty to rule over muggles."

"I don't want to rule over anyone. The man abuses his own wife and children! You can stand by and do nothing?"

"And what, legally, may I do?"

"You could… What does legal have to do with it?"

"First you want me to act a dark wizard and now you urge me to ignore the law?"

"I… There must be something you could do."

"I wish there were," he admitted. "But using magic on muggles, even when well-intentioned, will end up creating more problems than it solves. Some of my ancestors faced accusations of witchcraft. I do not want such tales being spread about me."

On their return to the manor Gordon informed them that Matthias had returned from the March estate, and left again. Mr. Prewett had instructed Gordon to mention a letter from Mrs. March, left in the library. Vivien went upstairs to freshen her appearance and Mr. Malfoy went to the library. Before opening the note, however, he went over to a bookshelf and searched among the titles for a large tome. Pulling it down he flipped towards the end of volume and found the information he sought.

"_The ulcisci charm can only be performed by a wizard or witch especially skilled at charms. Properly used the spell causes whatever the one who has been charmed attempts to do to another to fall upon his own head. That is to say, should a man who under the charm attempt to strike another with a switch, the force of the blow will be felt by the one holding the switch and not the man who is struck."_ The book continued with how to cast the charm, how to break the charm, and limits on its power and duration. Mr. Malfoy frowned, well cast the charm might last for a week before wearing off. He considered asking Miss Kestrel to remove the charm, but part of him agreed with Miss Kestrel it seemed appropriate. When he visited the Throutons again in a week he would need to adjust their memories.

"What are you reading," Miss Kestrel asked when she entered the library.

He hurriedly shut the book and returned it to the shelf, "Seeking an answer to a question which arose today while visiting a tenant. Actually more than one question arose – do you still feel my attention to my estate is intrusive?"

Vivien hesitated, "My experience is limited, but I believe you act as a landlord concerned for the well-being of his tenants."

"Thank you. And do you understand it is inappropriate to use magic on muggles, no matter how well intended?"

"No, I don't accept that. Oh, I accept it should not be done as a regular practice, but on occasion it can be entirely appropriate."

"You will not put another charm on a tenant," he told her firmly.

She ignored his order, "What news did Mr. Prewett bring about Kitty?"

Mr. Malfoy broke the seal on the note and read:

_Dear Titus,_  
_Miss Kelly is a gem. She gave my horses some_  
_draught which has allowed them to rest. The_  
_three had been in the same pasture and she is_  
_convinced they ate something they should have_  
_avoided. She plans to scour the field and find_  
_the source of the problem. The weakest of the_  
_three horses will need a couple days of care_  
_and I've asked her to remain here. Your_  
_secretary promised to pack a few items and_  
_return with them. (It appears you are short of_  
_household servants if you must send your_  
_secretary on such errands. Some of my servants_  
_have relatives they swear are very trustworthy_  
_if you would like a recommendation.)_  
_Should she truly prove as capable as she_  
_claims, and thus far the evidence suggests she_  
_is, I want to keep her in the neighborhood. Tell_  
_me the dowry you expect for your whelp and_  
_I'll pay it so she can wed Claudius._  
_She's a Godsend. Thank you for inviting her,_  
_April_

"Mrs March is quite taken with Miss Kelly's abilities," Mr. Malfoy told Vivien.

"If it has to do with livestock I'm not surprised."

"You might be amused by her plans for your friend," he said, and handed her the note to read.

She flushed briefly with anger as she read the note, but realized the offer could not be serious. She returned the note and tried to take an amused tone, "Have you set a price for your son's happiness?"

"I would not consider a dowry as a purchase of happiness."

"One hopes it is not a purchase of sorrow."

He actually smiled at her answer. "I believe Claudius should be allowed to make his own choice in the matter."

"I believe that Claudius has no desire to choose a wife, and that as his father the choice of the most suitable partner will fall on you."

Having spent the day by himself, or rather without parental supervision, Claudius seemed in unusually good humor that evening at dinner. With his sarcastic mood gone, at least for the moment, Vivien ventured to ask him about the skull. "He's quite put out with you," Claudius chuckled, "felt insulted by the charms you used on him."

"Well, he could have answered civil questions," Miss Kestrel sniffed, "and then we wouldn't have resorted to charms."

"He is a very private person."

"He is hardly a person," Vivien retorted.

"There is an interesting question for discussion," Mr. Malfoy commented with a smile, "is a physical body a necessity to be considered a person? We don't question the right of the ghosts at Hogwarts to be called persons, but they are even less corporeal than Yorick."

"But they at least have bodies," the witch argued.

"A body is a prerequisite?" Mr. Malfoy asked.

"I would think so," Vivien answered, hesitating slightly because she sensed a trap.

"So the men who lost limbs in the war against the Emperor..."

"Point to father," Claudius laughed. He turned to his father, "You could have been in Ravenclaw."

Changing the subject slightly Mr. Malfoy asked his son, "Where is the skull Matthias calls Yorick now?"

"I've set his stand on a table by a window. He appreciates seeing the world."

"I offered to move him upstairs, but he rejected the suggestion."

"Despite being dead he has a great deal of pride. I think he resents being considered part of a collection and feared you would have in on display as some sort of trophy."

"My only concern was his comfort."

"I believe you, but having decided that the house of Malfoy was the source of all evil in the world it is difficult for him to accept your proposal. He would think you won in some manner should he agree with you."

"What puzzles me," Vivien commented, "is why, if he hates Malfoys the way he claims, does he consider you a friend? You said you found him in the dungeon when you were a boy?"

"Oh, I dare say he has his vanity as well as his pride. It gratified him to be the focus of attention, even from a child. Pride and vanity... I wonder if, rather than being some old enemy of the family he might be an ancestor."

"That hardly seems possible, given his hatred for the Malfoys... Other than you, of course," Vivien pointed out.

"Oh, it is certainly possible to hate one's own family." Mr. Malfoy told her. "Perhaps his condition was brought on by something in the dark arts collection."

Claudius seemed to take the comment of his father as something of a personal insult. "I do not hate my family," he retorted. "I do not want the responsibilities incumbent on the land and title. I don't want to bring shame on the name, I simply don't want the damn responsibility!"

Miss Kestrel realized this represented some sort of long-standing argument between father and son and desperately thought for something to say which might defuse the tension. Her host, however, refused to engage in argument, "You misunderstand. I am speaking only of Yorick. If, as you say, he enjoys being able to look out at the world I will repeat my offer to move him to the library or some other location in the house."

Claudius had regained some of his composure. "Sorry. I will ask. I fear he will either see the offer as an expression of pity which he will resent, or an admission of surrender should he accept."

"Well, you're clever enough for Ravenclaw yourself. Find some way to make him think he has tricked me into giving him a more interesting location."

Later in the meal Claudius asked Vivien her opinion on spending a day with his father.

"I enjoyed it!" the pretty witch answered enthusiastically. "And I'm driving the cart much better!" She turned to her host, "Wasn't I much better coming back?"

"She was," Mr. Malfoy confirmed.

Claudius rolled his eyes, "City girl. It was new and exciting. I dare say it would become tiresome for her quickly enough. Are you going out again tomorrow?" he asked his father.

"I don't really need to–" he began.

"I don't mind," Miss Kestrel interrupted.

Titus sighed, "She put a charm on a tenant today."

Claudius, who had been taking a drink, nearly choked. "She what?"

"He deserved it," Vivien insisted, "he's abusing his wife and children."

"It's a muggle affair. Let them take care of it themselves."

"How?"

Mr. Malfoy spoke, "It doesn't matter. It's not our concern."

"I..." Claudius turned to his father. "You've already told her this, haven't you?" Mr. Malfoy nodded. "Then I'll not waste my time."

"I'll adjust his memory as necessary when it wears off," Titus assured his son.

"Are we going out again tomorrow?" Vivien asked. "I quite enjoyed the day."

"We will not go... Only if you give your word of honor that you will not place any kind of charm on any muggle."

"Except in self-defense," Claudius added.

"That is not likely to happen with me and Mr. Trotter there. And Miss Kestrel strikes me as the kind of person who might turn someone into a frog and claim it was self-defense."

"Oh, that's not likely to happen," Claudius yawned.

"You trust her?"

"Not a whit, but she was never very good with transfigurations. Lizzy, on the other hand, could produce an exceptionally fine frog."

Before turning in that evening Vivien went to the kitchen. She had not enjoyed the rough luncheon that day and asked the house elves to prepare something for her in the morning, then modified her request to a hamper with food for three.

Vivien arose somewhat earlier than usual the next morning, thinking it would be a fine surprise if she could smuggle the hamper out to the stable without Mr. Malfoy being aware of her plan. Her machinations meant there was less time for makeup, but she had come to realize she had spent more time yesterday than was necessary for the work of the day.

* * *

Enclosure took two forms. Both were disruptive to the small farmers and open field system of agriculture which had dominated the countryside for centuries. One enclosure simply saw the tenants driven off the land, sometimes by force, with the land being used to raise sheep (there was a lot of profit in wool). The second form saw the open fields broken into small plots, bounded by hedge, with the plots being rented out. The end of common land brought hardship to some tenants, but the freedom to experiment with crops, fertilization, and agricultural methods eventually raised farm productivity.

A profitable strain of sugar beets had been grown since the 18th century in Prussia. After the Napoleonic wars France developed its own sugar beet industry and became the world's largest producer in the 1830s. Laws theoretically intended to protect British agriculture in the early 19th century actually created problems for the whole economy (so Mr. Malfoy should probably not lay the entire blame on his father and grandfather for the estate's problem) but began to improve slightly by the late 1830s.

The rites of Saint Monday are often associated with the Industrial Revolution, but references to absenteeism on the first day of the work week occur in 18th century writers. (If you don't 'get it'... The rites of Saint Monday were getting so drunk on your day off work (Sunday) you were too hungover for work on Monday.)

In 1753 Sir William Blackstone's wrote his famous explanation of the legal status of a married couple: "In law, husband and wife are one person, and that person is the husband." He also claimed such subordination was for the woman's own good. Divorce was not allowed in England for a long period up until 1857 and the passage of the Matrimonial Causes Act. (Well, if you had a lot of money and friends in Parliament divorce was possible - a lot of things are possible with money. It was impossible for an average person to obtain a divorce.) Unhappy husbands without funds and connections sometimes resorted to selling their wives (see The Mayor of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy).

The first case study of the Rh factor appeared in 1939. Prior to modern treatments it was often possible for an Rh- woman with an Rh+ husband to have one healthy child, but not a second. It is suspected this might have been a factor in the many miscarriages of Queen Anne.


	8. The Tempest

**Disclaimer**: Rowling presented seven years of a school which was supposed to have existed for centuries. Hogwarts 1835 had little from canon besides location. Hogwarts 1940 could serve as a prequel to the canon books. This sequel to 1835 has little from canon but a few family names and a location or two, but those are from Rowling's books. Similarities to any person, living are dead, with the characters in this story is an amazing coincidence.

My parameters for what constitutes canon are defined at the end of chapter one.

**Chapter 8 – The Tempest**

Claudius was still in bed when Mr. Malfoy joined Miss Kestrel at the breakfast table. "We don't need to go out today," he reminded her as he sat down. "Mr. Trotter plans to call where tenants are doing well."

"I enjoyed seeing the farms."

"Which you hope to possess some day."

"I enjoyed seeing the farms... Seeing the farms and driving the cart."

"Very well then. I'd like to see some tenants who are doing well to take the taste of the Throutons from my mouth."

Mr. Trotter was saddling his horse when they arrived at his home, "Didn't expect to see you today," he told Mr. Malfoy as he checked the bridle to insure the horse's comfort.

"It was my idea," Miss Kestrel spoke up. "I enjoyed yesterday."

"It appears that, to one from the city, gathering eggs represents an adventure rather than a chore," Mr. Malfoy told his steward.

Mr. Trotter laughed as he swung his leg over his mount. "Perhaps we shall find some other adventure for her today."

There were no adventures that morning, but the day was beautiful and they waved at farmers busy working in their fields as they leisurely rode through the countryside. They stopped at the occasional cottage to inquire about the health of the residents, but other than a grandmother with pleurisy no one voiced a complaint.

Mr. Trotter stared up, gauging the angle of the sun. "Time for a bite."

Mr. Malfoy turned to Vivien, "Miss Kestrel, we shall eat–"

"Here," she finished.

"What?"

"We shall eat here," she told them. "I had the house– I had the servants at the house pack a hamper."

"But–" Mr. Malfoy tried to protest.

"I see a pretty little copse over there," she gestured to the left. "Shade would be pleasant."

They rested in the shade for a moment at the end of the meal, and Vivien poured the last of the bottle of wine into Mr. Malfoy's cup. "A very fine meal," his steward commented."

"Miss Kestrel delights in surprising me," Titus commented.

"I did not order this meal for you," Vivien told him.

"No? Then for whom?"

"I wanted something for me – yesterday's meal was dreadful. But since your servants prepared the food I felt I should ask them to make enough for you also."

"Well," Mr. Trotter added, "since my servants had nothing to do with this I simply add my words of gratitude for being included."

"You are quite welcome."

"And, should you decide to ride out again tomorrow you would be quite welcome."

"Is there any problem which demands my attention?" Mr. Malfoy asked.

"No. I might see if the snare captured the fox, but nothing which requires your presence."

"Can we go out again, please?" Vivien asked.

"You heard Mr. Trotter say there was nothing which required my attention."

"But if we went to the farm that had the fox, we would pass that farm with the little girl, Bessie, and I promised—"

"Miss Kestrel," Titus sighed, "do you remember fearing that I spent entirely too much time intruding on my steward's business?"

"What's that?" Mr. Trotter asked.

"My son wants me to sit at home and do nothing. He thinks I should let you run the farm and trust you to manage everything."

"I hope you trust me."

"I do. But Claudius doesn't appreciate there is still work for me to do, and had filled Miss Kestrel's mind with the idea I am simply annoying you while you attempt to do your job, and that you resent my presence."

Mr. Trotter turned to Vivien, "Was that what you thought?"

"No," she insisted. Mr. Malfoy raised an eyebrow and stared at her. Vivien hesitated, "Claudius did say his father spent too much time interfering in your affairs" Mr. Malfoy continued to stare. "Fine," she snapped, "I believed Claudius, but one should accept the word of a friend if there is no reason to think otherwise."

"Young women should never trust any man, with the possible exception of their fathers," Mr. Trotter intoned solemnly.

Miss Kestrel did not smile at his witticism the way he had hoped.

"Her father died when she was very young," Mr. Malfoy explained.

"Oh... I'm sorry, I had–"

"No, you could not have known," Vivien assured him. "Fortunately my mother is a very trustworthy woman."

"I believe, as a general statement, that women are more trustworthy than men," Mr. Trotter commented, glad that he had not killed all conversation. "At least that is what my wife tells me."

"I can not believe so many men are devoid of honor," Vivien responded. "I find Mr. Malfoy very trustworthy. I believe he would set himself on fire before he would break his word."

Titus sighed, "When she doesn't surprise me, she flatters me. I never know what she might say."

"And for that insult," Vivien assured him. "I will accompany Mr. Trotter tomorrow when he checks the snare. And I will help Bessie collect eggs." She turned to her host, "You are welcome to come with us."

"Do you plan another picnic hamper?"

"The pleasure of my company isn't enough for you?"

Mr. Malfoy chuckled, "Perhaps I should come just to keep Mr. Trotter from being the target for your teasing."

"Perhaps I should just have a hamper prepared for two."

"He is my employer," Mr. Trotter reminded her in a loud enough whisper for all to hear, "it would put me in a very bad light to enjoy a bounty such as that lunch while he went hungry."

Vivien gave a mock sigh, "Then, for your sake, I will prepare another hamper for three."

On that Wednesday afternoon, as those on the Malfoy estate enjoyed their luncheon, Miss Kelly nervously diagnosed the cause of the problem to Mrs. March, "I believe the problem is devil's wort."

"Devil's wort?"

"Not common, but... So unusual I spent the day looking for it. I... I believe that is what it is." She unfolded a piece of paper and showed the older woman a stalk and leaves.

Mrs. March frowned, "That is milkwort."

"Devil's wort looks like milkwort, but it's poison. More dangerous than laurel for horses."

"I've not heard of devil's wort... It is more toxic than laurel?"

"Not more toxic... A horse won't eat laurel unless it's starving. Must taste bad. Horse'll graze on devil's wort. Lot of milkwort in that pasture, this has a scarlet vein on the leaf. One horse must have ate quite a bit, the others less."

The older woman stared hard, "Afraid my eyes aren't what they were." She called to a young man mucking out the stables, "Tom, here boy." She handed him the plant, "Your young eyes see a scarlet vein anywhere on this?"

He stared hard, "Yes'm."

"Thank you, back to work." She returned the specimen to Miss Kelly. "I've still never heard of it," she said with suspicion in her voice.

"If I had the right materials I could test. That's what I think happened though. You need to get some people to go through that pasture, shoulder-to-shoulder, and chop out anything that looks like milkwort."

April March hesitated. That seemed a great deal of effort to remove a common plant which had never caused her horses trouble. On the other hand, she would do anything to protect her horses, and the young woman had been remarkably effective in treating them. "I would like to be certain. Could you get the materials you need for your test? There's an apothecary nearby."

"Doubt he's got what I'd need. Could feed this to a horse. Couple stalks won't do real harm, might make the heart a little irregular."

"I'd rather take it myself than risk a horse. Could I sample it?"

"Nope, doesn't hurt people – or I'd a tried it myself."

"You'd have eaten some?"

"Why not? You said you would."

"Miss Kelly, I am going to believe you. We'll have that pasture clean by Saturday."

Kitty nodded. "I'm hopin' the mare will be strong enough I can head back to the Malfoys' tomorrow.

Thursday dawned overcast. "It might rain," Mr. Malfoy commented as he gazed out a window while eating breakfast.

"Or it might clear... I begin to understand why Sir William was given his title. It must be wonderful to know what the weather will be."

"We don't need to go, I'm certain Mr. Trotter would understand."

"Too late. The house elves have prepared the hamper, we must go."

The sky cleared somewhat as they rode to the steward's home, and there was hope the sun might break through the clouds. In the mid-morning it grew darker once again but it was still not certain that rain would actually fall.

They ate lunch in a hurried manner as the sky once again began to clear and there was hope of real sunshine as patches of blue appeared.

In the early afternoon the wind suddenly picked up and within minutes dark clouds scudded over the patches of blue and it grew dark as twilight.

"Head home," Mr. Malfoy advised his steward. "There'll be no more work today."

Mr. Trotter saluted his employer and turned his horse as the first slow, fat drops of rain began to fall. He slapped its flanks to encourage it to run faster, but the horse seemed well aware of the change of weather and had already started to gallop in anticipation of a dry stall and a meal of oats.

Vivien had grown better at driving the dogcart and had already turned it in the direction of the manor. "Go ahead," she encouraged Mr. Malfoy. "You can go faster."

"I won't leave you in the rain," he said, matching the pace of his mount to the speed of the vehicle and riding alongside.

"I'll be fine," she insisted. "Go ahead."

"No."

"You'll catch a chill and I'll have to nurse you back to health," she threatened. The rain had started to fall a little harder.

"The rain will fall on you as much as... You have a charm to keep you dry, haven't you?"

"Yes."

"I told you, I don't want any tenants seeing magic."

"Anyone with an ounce of intelligence will be too busy heading for cover to notice I am dry."

"And if you encounter someone without an ounce of intelligence, or one with intelligence on the road – heading for shelter?"

"I'll take it off before they notice."

"There is a chance–"

"There is a certainty of being soaked to the bone," she snapped as the rain began to fall in earnest. "If you chose to remain in this deluge longer than necessary you are more foolish than a muggle."

"And I will not abandon a guest to the elements," he said firmly and kept his place beside her on the road.

They continued in silence for a minute, the sky growing darker except when illuminated by flashes of lightning.

"I could put the rain repelling charm on you," she offered.

"I don't–" he started to protest.

"Or, as I said, I can nurse you to health after you catch a chill. I shall feed you broth and lay a cool hand on your fevered brow as you groan in agony and predict your eminent demise."

He actually laughed. "I would not want in inconvenience you. At this point I am so thoroughly soaked that anyone meeting me won't realize the rain is no longer hitting me... You should remove the charm from yourself a minute before we arrive at the stable."

She opened her mouth to protest, then realized he was right. "Agreed."

Mr. Prewett and Kitty had returned to the Hall before Vivien and Mr. Malfoy's return. They were sitting in a drawing room, observing the storm, and saw the pair dashing to the house from the stables.

"Did you avoid the storm?" Vivien asked when she saw the dry pair.

"No, but Mrs. March said her rheumatism warned her of rain and she insisted we take along some oilskins. You are very wet."

"Mr. Malfoy insisted I take off the rain repelling charm before we arrived so Clarence would not be suspicious."

"You would rather have told him we can do magic?" her host protested.

"There are times when a small memory charm can be very effective."

"And putting holes into the memories of one's servants is always a dangerous thing, you can never be certain what they may, or may not remember, after tampering with them."

"You might be correct," Vivien admitted. "But it is still a dreadful inconvenience."

"The world does not revolve around your convenience."

"Oh... Why not? And whose convenience does it revolve around?"

She laughed at his expression and he sighed. Turning to Matthias he said, "While the universe revolves around Miss Kestrel you might tell Gordon to bring in tea and a good brandy. I will change into something dry and be down shortly." He turned to Vivien and bowed with exaggerated mock civility, "And is there anything else m'lady might desire for her convenience?"

Vivien raised her nose in the air and took on a tone of artificial gentility, "I have always believed in the efficacy of toast and strawberry jam in combination with tea for warding off a cold after being soaked." She held out her hand, "You may escort me to the top of the stairs."

He took her hand. As they ascended the stairs he chuckled, "I am almost sorry Claudius is determined not to wed. It would be amusing to have you here."

Vivien was silent. A week before she would have taken the comment as evidence that Mr. Malfoy's resolve was starting to crumble. Today the prospect of marriage to Claudius held less appeal. "I fear the world revolves without concern for the convenience of any of us," she sighed. "Backgammon after tea? Kitty and Mr. Prewett seem happy watching the storm, but I have had enough of it for today."

"I agree with you on the storm. Backgammon it is," he told her as they parted company at the head of the stairs to go to their respective rooms.

In the evening, when Vivien and Kitty retired for the night, the Irish girl went into Miss Kestrel's bedroom. "Saw something today, coming back from the March place."

"Oh?"

"Rode through little village a few miles from here... Saw Peter."

"Peter?"

"Peter Philpot. How many Peters do we know?"

"What would Peter be doing there?" Kitty raised an eyebrow and stared at Vivien. "I... No. That is not possible."

"Why not?"

"Are you sure it was Peter? Did you speak with him?"

"No, I didn't speak to him. But it was him."

"You could be mistaken."

"And you could accept what I saw."

"No, I–"

"Who are the two men you know with the least interest in women?"

"Peter and Claudius."

"And we both know that Peter is only interested in men, and we've suspected it of Claude for years."

"But they never appeared to be... I mean, Peter is such a great gossip. Surely he would have said something."

"Peter also knows how to keep his mouth shut. And if he really cared for Claude, and we know Claude is concerned for the Malfoy name, he wouldn't have said a word."

"Turk or someone would have noticed something."

"Besides the fact they were favorite partners playing whist?"

"That means nothing. I enjoyed having Peter as a whist partner – he plays very well."

"I'm just saying–"

"You are jumping to conclusions without sufficient evidence."

"You are in denial."

Miss Kestrel took a deep breath and thought for a moment. "Assuming you are correct – and I'm not saying you are – what would you have us do?"

"I am telling you only to warn you. I know you came here with the intention of marrying Claude."

Vivien shrugged, "I assumed, were I to marry Claudius, that he would have a lover. I did not think it would be Peter, and I am still not certain your suspicions are correct. But I don't think it would have made a difference. I like Peter. It might actually have made it easier to bear."

"You could have had a lover and then at least the four of you could play whist."

"No. I would have been true to my marriage vows. That was always my intent. I would have done nothing to bring disgrace to the Malfoy name. That is the reason Claudius keeps his inclinations hidden."

"The way you keep saying, 'would have'... You've given up on Claude at the altar?"

The blond witch sighed. "I am beginning to recognize there might be a happiness beyond mere security. Marriage to Claudius could only provide security. I would like the other as well."

"Sounds like a revelation hit you while I was at the March estate. What happened?"

"We... Mr. Malfoy and I went with his steward to view the work of his tenants. None are wealthy, but they have enough. And most of them have something else as well – something in their partner, a mutual respect, that I don't believe I could ever feel from Claudius."

"So... What are your plans now?"

"I don't know. When it's time to leave I'll go back to Diagon and work in the shop. Perhaps someday a wizard will walk through the door and I will know he is the one. The nice thing about Kestrel's is that no one truly poor is apt to come through the door."

Kitty chuckled, "Don't think you get a lot of wizards through the door."

"Oh, more than you think. Most of them arrive with wives, but we do make clothing for wizards also and there are a few with a taste for quality garments. What about you? What will you do when our month is up?"

"Mrs March would like me to set up shop in the neighborhood."

"Mr. Malfoy showed me her letter. Is she serious?"

"I think so. She's warned me a woman won't be listened to like a man, but her patronage would start me off well. I think other people will come around in time."

"You won't meet many wizards, working for muggles."

"True," the Irish girl admitted. "But like you I don't want many wizards, just one. If I know my mother she's looking through the cousins even now to find one for me. 'Course if I have work she may try to marry me off to one of the shiftless ones who doesn't."

Friday remained overcast with occasional rain. In addition to hearing Kitty's report on the March home those at Malfoy Hall kept themselves entertained with games and the library.

The usually unseen house elves were visible throughout the day, cleaning rooms and straightening in anticipation of the wizards and witches who would gather the next day. One end of the long gallery was prepared for the arrival of musicians while tables placed at the other end would hold refreshments.

Claudius regaled the two women with stories about how dull they would find the next day. The house would be filled with stuffy old wizards and witches who looked down upon everything with disdain.

Kitty turned to Mr. Prewett. "Have you been here before during any of these meetings?"

"I have."

"Is it as bad as Claude says?"

Matthias hesitated.

"Remember," Claudius reminded her, "he's not allowed to tell the truth – has to be polite and all." He turned to Matthias, "I gave her my opinion. Tell her what you really think."

"I... um... think you should have stayed with Mrs. March for a few more days, just to be sure the horses would be fine."

Claudius laughed, "Terribly circumspect of you."

"So, Claude here is telling the truth?" Miss Kelly asked.

"I am my father's son," Claudius boasted.

"It sounds like many of the important families in the wizarding community will be present. I'm certain it can't be as terrible as you describe," Vivien objected.

"You'll see," Claudius threatened. "I've already told father I'll find somewhere, anywhere, to spend the night tomorrow. He would usually object to my telling him such a thing, but he sympathizes and I have his blessing on the promise I shall be home in time for church."

"But why are you leaving?"

"Because they are the considered the most important families in the community. They are full of themselves, with each one convinced his or her family is the most important in the land. I am tolerated as a Malfoy. They won't notice or speak to you and Kitty."

Miss Kelly turned to Mr. Prewett, "The notion has occurred to me that perhaps I left the March farm too early. I'm thinking of going back tomorrow to see if the mare's getting better and if they cleared out the devil's wort from that field."

"Do you need any company for the trip?"

"I think I know the way, I'll be–"

"Please?"

She laughed, "You drive the gig." She looked over at Vivien, "Want to come with us? Sounds like you'll be facing 'em by yourself if you stay."

Vivien had virtually surrendered all hope of becoming Mrs. Malfoy. But the most important wizard and witches in the land would be under this roof on the morrow. Dinner and the ball represented her opportunity to be introduced to those who could help advance her in society. "I shall stay. I can't believe it is as bad as Claudius presents it."

By carriage and floo representatives of many of the great and powerful families in the wizarding community began to arrive in the late morning.

Vivien, realizing she would have no place in the discussion, left the manor with Claudius as the visitors and Mr. Malfoy began the formal meeting. Clarence saddled horses for them.

"What do you suppose they will decide to do?" Vivien asked as they rode down the main path from the house.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"There will be suggestions made, followed by arguments about why the idea will not work. And another suggestion will be made – and it will be attacked by the person who made the first suggestion and felt slighted at its rejection. The guild will disappear and the so-called Ministry of Magic will continue to grow."

"But the guild has served us well for so many years."

"The guild existed for many years. It has not necessarily served us well. Too often it served the guild masters. The religion of the modern and efficient will make the Ministry appear a more attractive alternative, promising to treat all with equality."

"But that is a good thing."

"That is an impossible thing. No, the people back at the manor are correct, I've seen muggle bureaucracy. It grows and feeds on itself and justifies its continued existence with excessive regulation. As a further difficulty, those in the meeting are not united in how to preserve the guild. They all recognize there are problems, but don't know how to fix them – and may not even agree on what is a problem and what is working as it should."

"You are a cynic."

"I am a realist. I've also heard father talk about the meetings I've not seen. I suspect a goodly number of those attending have given up on preserving the guild but only attend for the supper and dance afterwards. One must preserve one's place among the social elite. Most regard being invited to the discussion as something of an honor. I dare say half of them don't give a personal damn about the guild, but their families have always been prominent and they fear that if the ministry is based on merit as its supporters want to believe they will not have a role. They need not fear; the wealthy will corrupt the ministry – when it comes – as assuredly as they corrupted the guild."

_"They are the elite of the wizarding community," _Vivien reminded herself. _"It raises my status to be seen here."_

The path divided, and Vivien turned left to make a circuit within the park before returning to the Hall for dinner. Claudius took the right, "Tell father I may meet you in church tomorrow," he called to Viv.

Vivien arrived back at the manor early so that she would have time to dress properly. She had observed how the wizards and witches had been dressed when they arrived and was delighted to have a reason for some of the finery she had brought with her. To her chagrin she was seated at the bottom of the table. More than a week of eating at the head of the table had lulled her into expecting a similar honor, but in the presence of the rich and powerful she was reminded of her place in society. Two women, seated well above her at the table, were deliberately loud enough in their whispers for their opinion to carry to those seated around them, and even carry to Vivien herself.

"... Kestrel ... seamstress in Diagon."

"... explains ... above her station."

The two women laughed, as did those seated around them.

Vivien, seated between the doddering survivor of a once-great family line and a middle-aged witch who spent the meal complaining about the food while eating large quantities of the same, did not have a word addressed to her throughout the meal.

Although the youngest person at the dance Vivien still anticipated pleasure from the event. She enjoyed dancing, and everyone there was high enough in society that her own status would be enhanced by her presence in the company.

She remained without a partner for the first dance. Some wizards might have asked her, but the threats of their wives or other prominent witches and wizards alerted them to the harm they might do in the eyes of others if they asked the daughter of a seamstress onto the dance floor.

Sir William Baker noticed she had no partner at the start of the second waltz and asked her onto the dance floor. He cared little about the opinion of others, and his own reputation was not especially good because of his drinking habit. But as the head of Slytherin house he wanted to hear the news of his former charge and ask what she knew of Jeremiah Abbot. "I've been told he has the gift."

"That is what Miss Gray reported. I did not hear his visions, but was told of them."

"Was it limited to who would win quidditch games?"

"Those are the ones Miss Gray related to me. I fear I know nothing about how often he has his visions or what he might see, but she told me that what he claimed to have seen happened as he said it would."

"I will pay more attention to the young man next year. He will be the keeper for the quidditch team, will he not?"

"Yes."

"Do you remain in contact with Miss Gray?"

"We write often."

"Send her my greetings when next you write. Thank her again for all she did that evening and assure her I've not had a drink since that night."

"That will please her very much."

"Mrs. Pilton told the faculty of her marriage. Where is she now?"

"Professor Potter's plans were modified by the marriage. He'd hope to arrive in Siberia this summer, but will now try for the spring. They will spend the winter in Moscow learning the dialect, but I believe they are currently in Durmstrang."

At the end of the dance he thanked her for being his partner and left to ask another witch for the next waltz. Vivien looked around the hall hopefully, but another invitation to dance was not extended. Nor did a partner seek her out for the following dance.

She moved over to the table of refreshments and overheard one of the witches who had ridiculed her during supper berating her husband. "… drunken fool… don't know why she is here. Mr. Malfoy … should not be here … No one will ask her for a dance …"

Vivien did not know if she had been seen by the speaker or not. She suspected the woman would not have cared.

The blond witch felt her world collapsing around her. She had come to Malfoy Manor in hopes of marriage to Claudius. Whatever his intentions were in the invitation Titus Malfoy insisted that her marriage to his son was impossible. She had hoped that her presence would introduce her to other families of importance, but it had only served to make her an object of ridicule and the butt of jests. Slipping quietly away from the great hall she ran up the stairs and went to her room, throwing herself down on the bed she started to cry. She wished Kitty were there to comfort her and envied her friend for being away.

Mr. Malfoy did not immediately notice Miss Kestrel's absence, being preoccupied with his duties as host. Finally, feeling no pressing demands on his attention, he looked around to make certain Miss Kestrel was enjoying herself. He could not see her among the guests. He moved to the refreshment table where a house elf ladled punch, "Have you seen Miss Kestrel?"

"She left... maybe half an hour ago."

"She's been gone half an hour?"

"Yes."

Her absence seemed very unusual. He tried to guess what might have happened, but failed to come to a hypothesis which made sense. He left the great hall. She was not in the library. He knocked on the door to her bedroom. "Miss Kestrel?"

"What?"

"Are you all right?"

"Go away, please."

"Is something wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong."

"Why are you up here?"

"I don't belong downstairs."

"Why not?"

"I don't belong."

"It is a party for my guests. You are my guest, so you certainly belong."

"No I don't. I was ignored. I was laughed at. I... It doesn't matter. I am not going downstairs."

"May I come in?"

"No... I've been crying. I'm a mess."

"I am coming in." She sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over and looking sorry for herself and miserable. "What happened?"

"I told you. I don't belong here."

"This is my home. You are here at my invitation, and you belong if I say you do."

"Some of the witches here don't believe that."

"And you believe them?"

"They're from good families. I'm not. They're right."

"Where have you hidden Vivien Kestrel?"

"What?"

He pretended to look under the bed. "She can't have gone far. Is she in the wardrobe?"

"Have you quite lost your mind?"

"No, but you are obviously not she. Miss Kestrel came here hoping to marry my son. It was extraordinarily presumptuous of her, but she had nerve. She even stood up to me - and I am told that is a most difficult feat, although I am uncertain if that be true. Although I sometimes thought her foolish I never thought her a coward. She would be talked about behind her back by the jealous and the less talented, but she did not let that deter her. She would have known it comes with the Malfoy name she desired. But I come upstairs now and find you crying and wanting pity, you are obviously an impostor of some sort. Miss Kestrel would be at the dance and would be damned before she would let some witches drive her from a party. Now where is she?"

Vivien actually managed to smile during his speech. "I fear I lost her for a moment, but she is still here."

"Good."

"And what would you have Miss Kestrel do?"

"I would have her come downstairs with me and do me the honor of allowing me the next waltz. After she has waltzed with me any wizard unwilling to dance with her is insulting me in my own home – and there isn't a man in this gathering who would dare do that. And any witch who would dare speak a word against her openly would reveal herself as spiteful and petty… Perhaps I should agree with those who accuse me of being a difficult man to contradict."

Vivien took a kerchief from the table by the bed and blew her nose. "Miss Kestrel's face is currently a mess. Go downstairs and I will–"

"Fix your makeup now. Even without makeup you are the most beautiful woman in the Hall, and you certainly know that – and they know it also, which makes them all the more spiteful. But if vanity compels you to reapply powder and rouge I will wait. I would not want her to vanish again,"

"She will not," Vivien promised and Miss Kestrel hurriedly went to the mirror and repaired her face.

She took his arm as they descended the stairs. "Thank you," she whispered. She found herself feeling happy to be at his side. It was a warm feeling such as she had never experienced before. She had often taken pleasure in her beauty. She had often taken pleasure in her knowledge in those subject areas in which she excelled. She had taken pleasure on those rare occasions when she had enjoyed success in a wager. She was feeling far too happy to frown, but she was puzzled. It was a moment of triumph over those who had ridiculed her earlier in the evening. Perhaps that was the only explanation necessary for the joy she experienced, and if so she owed it all to Titus Malfoy for coming to her room and insisting she return with him. She looked up at him, "Thank you," she murmured a second time.

He glanced at her and smiled. It was a pleasant smile. She had regarded him as a handsome man in an abstract evaluation from the time she met him, but the smile made him look more handsome than any man she could remember. It also increased the warm feeling of pleasure she experienced. "You are welcome," he whispered in reply. "Thank you for the promise of the next waltz."

"You dance very well," she told him as the quintet played and they waltzed together.

"The credit must go to my late wife," he assured her. "She was very fond of dancing."

"Well then, I give you credit for listening to her, not all men as wise enough to listen to their wives."

"And I may not deserve credit on that front either. Emma could be quite headstrong in voicing her opinions..." He laughed softly, "Miss Kestrel, you are more like Emma than I realized."

"Should I take that as a compliment?"

"You should take that as a very great compliment."

Mr. Malfoy's prediction of how Vivien would be treated proved so accurate that the pretty witch found herself slightly disappointed. No witch present dared utter a word aloud against her after her dance with Mr. Malfoy. And she never lacked a partner for the rest of the evening. If the truth be known, many of the wizards present would have asked Miss Kestrel to dance earlier, but the fear of censure from their wives had kept kept them from making such a request. Now, should their wives criticize them after their return home they could insist they only asked the young woman to dance because they did not wish to insult their host. While being able to remain on the dance floor was gratifying to Vivien's pride she would not have objected to having a dance free in the hopes that Mr. Malfoy might have asked her to waltz again.

They waltzed in her dreams that night, his arms around her as they moved together to the music. Details of the dream were vague, as is often the case with dreams. She was uncertain if the long gallery was filled with other dancers or empty save for them and the musicians. All she remembered seeing was his smile and his brown eyes staring into her own.

* * *

Some troll has circulated an entirely bogus etymology for the word picnic on the internet. The practice of the wealthy having a decent meal out-of-doors by choice (as contrasted with the working class who ate a rough meals while on the job out of necessity) goes back many centuries. The word is not as old as the practice. A French term meaning something like BYOB (bring your own bottle) appeared in the 17th century, moved across the channel with the spelling changed to picnic and with the current meaning in the mid-18th century and had entered common use by the start of the 19th century.

Laurel is poisonous to horses, which avoid eating it. Milkwort is a common plant. Devil's wort is pure fiction.

It was considered dreadfully important to seat people in order of precedence at the dining table in the 19th century and etiquette books of the era could include lists indicating social levels to help clear up questions like, "Who is higher, the younger son of a duke, or the oldest son of a baron? Where is the niece of the king (or an illegitimate son of King William IV) on the social order?"


	9. A Midsummer Night's Dream

**Disclaimer**: J K Rowling presented seven years of a school which was supposed to have existed for centuries. Hogwarts 1835 had little from canon besides location. Hogwarts 1940 could serve as a prequel to the canon books. This sequel to 1835 has little from canon but a few family names and a location or two, but those are from Rowling's books. Similarities to any person, living are dead, with the characters in this story is an amazing coincidence.

My parameters for what constitutes canon can be found at the end of chapter one.

**Chapter 9 – A Midsummer Night's Dream **

Two couples stayed overnight after Saturday's meeting. Breakfast on Sunday was informal, and Miss Kestrel made a deliberate effort to sit at the head of the table in hopes of being seen, should any of the other guests arise in time to join Mr. Malfoy and her at breakfast.

"Claudius told you he would join us at the church?"

"If he were not home before we left."

"So, it will just be you and I in the carriage to church this morning," Mr. Malfoy commented.

"If it is just the two of us we could... Oh, Mr. Prewett and Kitty took the gig. Your other guests?"

"Said they would be leaving this morning."

A few minutes later Mr. and Mrs Wells entered the room and, as Gordon poured coffee for Mr. Wells and tea for Mrs. Wells, Miss Kestrel turned the conversation to quidditch. JW Wells, who would be sixth year Ravenclaw, served as a chaser on his house team. His parents were certain Ravenclaw would repeat as house champions in the coming year. Vivien reminded them that Slytherin had defeated Ravenclaw by a wide margin in their match and voiced the hope Slytherin would win the cup.

After breakfast, as they climbed into the carriage, Vivien sought clarification from her host, "You said we would not be at Reverend Henley's church this morning?"

"We won't. Reverend Stout serves the parish we will attend today."

As Mr. Malfoy held out his hand to help Vivien alight from the carriage she heard vague whispers from those standing outside the church. Claudius had not arrived as time for services drew near. The witch looked around the largely empty sanctuary, "Is this a smaller parish than the other?" she whispered.

"Larger," he whispered in answer.

Miss Kestrel felt very much the center of curious attention and suspected those in the pews were there more to see her or to be seen by their landlord than they were for the service.

During the second hymn Claudius entered the family pew with apologies to his father.

Miss Kestrel remembered being told that the bishop sometimes placed older vicars, past the strength of youth, into the livings on the Malfoy lands. She concluded that was the case with Reverend Stout, and strongly suspected he had written the sermon which he read in a monotone during the reign of George the Third.

Following the service Claudius and Vivien waited in the churchyard while Reverend Stout presented Mr. Malfoy with a litany of complaints about his own poor health, and the lack of devotion on the part of his congregants, and all of the rumors and gossip he had acquired since he had last seen his patron. Claudius questioned Vivien in detail about her opinion of yesterday's gathering at the Hall, but remained vague about his own movements.

The return to the Hall found Mr. Malfoy saying less than he had on the trip to church and looking thoughtful. When Vivien asked about his mood he replied he was thinking about what Reverend Stout had been telling him, wondering what should be regarded as credible and acted upon and what should be dismissed as slander.

"Is that a frequent concern with Reverend Stout? Reverend Henley seemed very discrete and careful last week."

"I trust Reverend Henley. He will only tell me what he has tested. Reverend Stout is more of a blotter, absorbing everything and turning it backwards."

"Then you should dismiss it all."

"Would that it were that easy," he sighed. "While he is too willing to believe the worst of everyone else he sometimes reports things I need to act upon."

The other guests had departed when they reached the Hall, and in mid-afternoon Kitty and Matthias returned from the March estate.

After listening to Mr. Prewett report on how impressed Mrs March was with Miss Kelly's abilities, and Miss Kelly talk about what a beautiful day it had been for travel, Mr. Malfoy announced he needed to take a ride.

"Do you want company?" Vivien asked.

"No," he said too quickly, and in too loud a tone. "Sorry," he apologized immediately, "I need to examine something Reverend Stout told me this morning."

He was late in returning that evening, didn't touch a bite of the food which had been prepared for him, and went to his room saying he was not hungry.

Monday morning found Miss Kestrel happy and cheerful at the breakfast table. "How many farms do you plan to visit today?" she asked her host.

"I do not plan to go out today," he replied in a flat tone.

"You do not sound happy. You must go out."

"I am not happy, and there is no need for me to leave the Manor today, therefore I plan to remain at home."

"And brood?" she responded. "Brooding is not good for you. All the more reason you must go out."

"There are no duties which require my attention."

"That has not stopped you in the past. Mr. Trotter is a very capable man and could accomplish the majority of his work without your presence, but–" He opened his mouth to protest, but Miss Kestrel continued. "Oh, I'm certain it was necessary when you first hired him, and may be occasionally necessary now – but you must learn to trust him more."

"I must learn to trust him more – and I must go out today. You make no sense."

"You will not stay at home to demonstrate your trust today. You will go out today because it is for your own mental well being. You are not staying in for him, you are going out for yourself."

He almost managed a smile at the pretty witch's impertinence. "And I will feel better if I go out?"

"Absolutely," she assured him. "Fresh air and sunshine will improve your mood. Fresh air, sunshine, and I had the house elves prepare a special picnic."

"And you are now concerned about hurting the feelings of house elves?"

"No, but I was the one who requested they prepare a very nice hamper. It would hurt my feelings should you ignore it. You are too good a host to do that."

He gave a mock sigh, "I am uncertain whose feelings you are thinking of, mine or your own."

"Both of us," she admitted. "I appreciated what you did for me Saturday evening and want to show my gratitude. It will make me feel better, and I hope it will make you feel better as well."

"Then, for your sake, we will go out. I fear it will not help my mood."

She impulsively put her hand on his and squeezed gently. "Please, don't determine to remain unhappy. I even promise not to use magic."

He actually smiled, "Even if we are attacked by highwaymen?"

"I am willing to let them shoot you, if it will make you feel better."

He actually laughed, "You have my permission to use magic to save yourself."

"But not to save you?"

"I think I would prefer being shot to requiring that you save me."

"You're mean," she pouted and stuck out her tongue at him.

"So, am I so mean that I am excused from going out and may remain home and brood?"

"No. You will go out today, and you will feel better whether you want to or not."

"Have you any other orders."

"Those will do. Receiving your praise makes your tenants happy. The luncheon will make Mr. Trotter happy. Being out and seeing the two of you eat the luncheon will make me happy. And bringing happiness to others will make you happy as well."

"I... Thank you. And thank you for not inquiring about the reasons for my mood."

"It would be rude for me to pry. It is enough to know you are not unhappy with me."

He frowned slightly. "And you know that because..."

"Because, while your manners are excellent, you would not agree to going out if my presence caused you pain."

There were no demands for the attention of master or steward that day. Mr. Trotter might have remained at his own home without a twinge of guilt. But the trio rode through an area of the estate which was especially prosperous and were greeted by curious tenants who desired to see the pretty young woman who local gossip said was accompanying their landlord. Many assumed she would marry Claudius in the near future.

They took longer than usual at lunch, and to her delight Vivien understood much of the conversation between the two men as they discussed what they had observed that morning. As Mr. Trotter packed the plates and cutlery into the hamper at the end of the meal he remarked to his employer, "I shall regret Miss Kestrel returning home."

Vivien turned and looked across a field so that he would not see the slight blush his comment elicited, while his employer felt a pang of sorrow at the reminder and wondered if he should ask Miss Kestrel and her mother about extending the young woman's stay. He tried to shake off the feeling. It had been wrong to ask Miss Kestrel and Miss Gray to come in the hope Claudius might show a preference. It would be wrong to ask her to stay longer when all hopes the young woman had cherished of an advantageous marriage were obviously gone. He glanced over at the pretty woman, and yet it would be pleasant if she could stay longer. Her presence made him happy. Should he surrender to his own selfish feelings and ask her to stay longer? He did not want her to leave, but it would be wrong to ask her to lengthen her stay. While the thought brought him no pleasure he knew that he must allow her to return to the city.

"Thank you for insisting I go out today," Mr. Malfoy told her as they rode back to the Hall.

"Do you feel better now?"

"No. But it made the day tolerable, and I would have spent the day brooding had I remained at home."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I thank you for your offer, but no. It appears I have a difficult choice to make and I fear any decision I make will result in my unhappiness."

"Talking might help."

"The less which is said the better."

"You said Reverend Henley would be discrete."

"I must do this alone. May we change the subject? Could you tell me what you most enjoyed today?"

"Other than your company?" she asked in a teasing tone.

"I fear I was poor company today."

"Not poor, but not up to your usual standard. And for that reason I think I will give the credit to that little boy who insisted on showing us his melons. He was extraordinarily proud of them."

"Indeed," Mr. Malfoy smiled, "wanting us to take one before it was ripe."

Supper seemed strained. Mr. Malfoy remained moody and Claudius seemed subdued and defiant. Vivien questioned Kitty about her work for Mrs. March as a way of promoting some sort of conversation at the table.

After supper Miss Kestrel managed a quiet moment with her host. "I fear you went out today only to humor me. While I appreciate your effort I don't want to be a burden. I won't ask the house elves to prepare a hamper for tomorrow."

"No, what you told me this morning was correct. Riding with you improved my mood. I am delaying a confrontation which I know must happen. Request another hamper. If we don't go out tomorrow perhaps you and Miss Kelly would enjoy a picnic."

Titus Malfoy had decided to remain at home on Tuesday, but rose early from force of habit and to breakfast with his guests. He had not yet informed Miss Kestrel of his decision when Miss Sloper announced Mr. Trotter was at the door.

Mr. Malfoy frowned, it was unusual for his steward to call – he was encouraged to wait for Mr. Malfoy to contact him – and the early hour even more unusual. "Please show him in."

Mr. Trotter strode in, hat in hand, "Might have the thief."

"Might?"

"What thief?" Miss Kelly asked.

Vivien spoke up, "Mr Trotter, may I present my friend, Miss Kelly. Kitty, this is Mr. Trotter, Mr. Malfoy's steward."

"What thief?" Kitty repeated.

"Someone's been stealing tools from tenants the last few months," Mr. Trotter explained hurriedly. He looked at Mr. Malfoy, "Can't be sure. Tom Dunn caught Billy Smith in one of his outbuildings early this morning. Tom says Billy must be the thief. Billy says he thought Tom had stolen his tools and was looking for them. They've got Billy at the Dunn place, the oldest boy came over to tell me. May be that neither one's the thief, but I thought I'd tell you before I investigate."

Mr. Malfoy nodded, "It's created serious problems. I'll go with you."

"So will I," Vivien announced.

"Miss Kestrel," her host began, "you don't need–"

"We can leave now. It will save a great deal of time if you don't try to talk me out of accompanying you."

"Very well," he sighed.

Confusion reigned at the Dunn cottage. "... just before dawn. Has to be the thief."

"I've been losing tools like everyone else," Billy protested. "Been checking different sheds and barns the last week or so lookin' to find the thief. What was he doin' up so early I asks you."

"I was goin' out to take a piss. Good thing too or you'd a robbed me."

"Maybe I'd have found the tools you've been stealin'."

"You break into one of my sheds and accuse me of stealin'?" Tom took a step towards Billy.

"Stop it," Mr. Trotter ordered, and pulled Tom back.

"Was he carrying any sort of bag for holding tools?" Vivien asked.

Mr. Trotter nodded his approval at the question.

"Don't rightly know," Tom admitted. "Dark when I caught him sneakin'–"

"I weren't sneakin'!"

"Yes ya were!"

"Why don't we examine the shed," Mr. Malfoy suggested.

There were no bags in the shed which Tom didn't recognize, although Vivien couldn't guess how he managed to identify the rough sacks as his own.

"See," Billy insisted, "I wouldn't a had no time to get rid of one. I was here seein' if he were the thief."

"A bag might have been evidence you were a thief," Mr. Malfoy pointed out. "The absence of a bag does not serve as evidence you are innocent."

The steward and landlord stood to one side in the open while Tom and Billy remained in the shed, glaring at each other with animosity. Vivien went over to listen to the conversation of Mr. Trotter and Mr. Malfoy.

"I suspect Billy is the thief," Titus said, "but suspicion is not proof."

"He has claimed tools were stolen from his place," Mr. Trotter agreed. "But sneaking around to look in the outbuildings on other farms? That is foolish."

"But certainly possible. I don't know what to do."

"May I ask him a few questions?" Vivien asked. "Some men have trouble telling a lie to a pretty woman."

"I don't see how–" Mr. Trotter began.

"No!" Mr. Malfoy told her, suspecting Vivien's plan, but the witch ignored him and turned and walked to the shed, with the two men following her.

She spoke to Tom first, "Billy claims he thought you might be the thief. Have you been stealing from your neighbors?"

"Course not," he snorted.

She turned to Billy, "You said you were here looking for stolen tools?"

"That's what I said."

"I ask you to think of the words of Jesus in the gospels and be honest in your answer, was that the truth?"

"No." His eyes showed the shock of hearing the word come from his mouth.

"I am very sorry to hear that. But confession of sin is good for the soul. Was your motive to find something to steal?"

"Yes." There was almost a look of horror in his eyes.

"Repentance is vital in situations such as this–"

"Stop it, right now," Mr. Malfoy demanded.

Vivien ignored his command, "Repentance. Are the tools on your property so that they may be returned to their proper owners?"

"No, pawned..." There were large beads of sweat on his forehead, more than normal for the temperature of an early morning in the summer as the truth continued to come out of his mouth.

"That is a pity. Are there others who need to clear their souls by the confession of their sins?"

"My wife. And Clarence."

"Clarence?"

"My cousin. Works in the Malfoy stables."

"I am certain they will also feel better having been reminded of the commandment, 'Thou shalt not steal'."

She was afraid to look at Mr. Malfoy when she turned. Mr. Trotter's face bore a look of amazement.

"Get this man and his wife off my land," Mr. Malfoy instructed his steward. "Miss Kestrel and I are returning to the Hall."

Vivien kept her eyes downcast, avoiding his gaze. She knew that once they were far enough away to avoid being overheard he would have a great deal to say to her.

"You promised not to charm any muggles," he snapped.

"I didn't."

"You most certainly did."

"I did not."

"I know what I just saw."

"Not if you think I charmed that muggle."

"You ask me to believe you put the fear of the Lord into him with your references to confession and repentance?"

"Not at all. That was for show."

"So, you admit charming him."

"I said no such thing. I placed no charm on any muggles today. I put a charm on myself."

"What?"

"A relatively simple charm. It makes those with whom I am talking desire to please me."

"I will not believe that for the simple reason I am talking with you, and I certainly have no desire to please you after you broke your word in that manner."

"I did not break my word! I charmed no muggle! And you are a very powerful wizard. I doubt I have a charm capable of bending you to my will."

"You are changing the subject!"

"No I'm not. I'm telling you the truth, and you are too stubborn to believe it."

"You charmed that muggle!"

"I did not. I placed a charm on myself."

"It is the same thing!"

"It most certainly is not. I promised not to charm any of your muggle tenants. I placed a charm on myself. I kept my promise."

There was a silence between them for the rest of the return to the Manor. And there was no Clarence in the stable to take care of their mounts when they reached the hall. Kitty was outside the stable, using a curry comb on Sparta.

"Can't find Clarence. Looks like he was here but–"

"He was when we left," Vivien told her.

"Well, appears he dropped everything. Maybe he took ill."

"More likely Mr. Trotter mentioned the reason we were going out," Mr. Malfoy commented.

"How's that?"

"The thief named Clarence as an accomplice. He couldn't be certain his cousin would confess, but left on the chance his role would be discovered. Had Clarence not been named he probably would have returned with some sort of excuse for his departure."

Titus Malfoy shut his eyes and cursed inwardly. "And I need a new stableman on top of everything."

Kitty spoke up quickly, "I'll take the job."

"What?"

"I don't have a job. You're needing someone, and I'm very good with horses."

"Miss Kelly... First of all, this is not a job for a witch."

"Why not? I'm capable."

"It is not a job for a witch, it requires no magic. And second, you are a woman and–"

"Who is capable of doing the job."

"A woman would not be accepted. Further, you are a guest at the house. Running the stable is a job for a servant. I can't have a servant as a guest."

"I'll move out."

"You're missing the point."

"No, you are."

"The point is this is a job for a muggle man who will work as a servant and requires activities which are beneath a wizard or witch."

"No, the point is that you need someone capable to run the stable, and you have a person who could do a damn fine job of it standing here in front of you this moment."

"Kitty," Vivien hissed, "have you no sense of propriety?"

"No, can't afford it. Need money in the bank to care for what's proper."

"I will find an appropriate muggle to fill the position," Mr. Malfoy assured her.

"And who feeds and waters the horses 'til then? Who shovels the shit? You may not find someone right away. Last time you hired a thief."

"You and Miss Kestrel," he muttered softly.

"What was that?" Kitty asked.

"I cannot believe you actually want a job in the stable."

"I don't. Mrs. March wants to set me up as a veterinarian. I'd like to put some of my own money into the practice – show I'm serious. Don't figure this would pay much, but it'll help."

"Miss Kelly, I cannot have a guest work as a servant–" She opened her mouth to protest, and he held up a hand to quiet her. "You, as guest who is talented in working with animals, may help me in the stable until I am able to find a muggle to hire for the position. You will not say you have a job in my stable. You are offering your help. In gratitude for your help in this time of need, I will work with Mrs. March in setting up your practice – both in providing funds and hiring your services for my animals. We could use a better veterinarian in the area than we currently have. Are my terms acceptable?"

"So... I'm working for you, even while I'm saying I don't work for you?"

"You are not working for me. You are helping me until I can hire a..." He glanced at Vivien. "Damn!" He strode off in the direction of his house.

"What was that about?" Kitty asked.

"He found himself agreeing with me," Vivien explained, "and he didn't like it."

"I don't understand."

"You don't need to."

"What's happening out here with the horses?"

"You are a guest in the house and will help him out here until he can hire some muggle for the job. You are not taking wages - that would be work. When Mrs. March sets up your practice he will give you a gift to help get you established. And my guess is that the gift will be a much larger amount than what you might have earned in wages."

The Irish girl nodded. "Sounds good. Still don't understand his damn."

"Earlier he and I were discussing calling a thing by one name, when it looked like it should be called another – you will be working, but must not call it work. I said I had not charmed a muggle, but he claimed that I had."

"All sounds like nonsense to me," Kitty replied.

Miss Kestrel found her host in the library, staring out a window. She hesitated, then quietly approached him. "My intention was to help you."

"I know. And I apologize for disbelieving. On another day we might have discussed the relative merits of obeying the letter or the spirit of the law, but I was rather forcefully reminded that it represents an issue for all mankind."

"Could you demonstrate you've forgiven me by riding out with the picnic hamper I had prepared?"

"There is no need for me to forgive you. You didn't break your word and you helped me – even if I did not desire your aid. But I have other business I must attend to." He looked over at Mr. Prewett, taking notes on a dark arts manuscript at a library table. "Matthias, it would please me greatly if you would drive our guests out a few miles and enjoy the picnic hamper the house elves have prepared."

The scholar looked up from his work and pushed the spectacles back up his nose, "I would be delighted... If that meets their approval."

Miss Kestrel made a mock curtsy to her host, "Having angered m'lord this morning it behooves me to do his biding with a cheerful countenance. Hopefully we can persuade Miss Kelly to leave the pleasures of horse manure long enough to join us."

"Horse manure?" Matthias asked in a loud whisper.

"You'll see," she promised in a stage whisper.

Mr. Malfoy managed to laugh, "Miss Kestrel, I find it utterly impossible to remain angry with you."

He waited until Mr. Prewett left with Miss Kestrel to confirm with Gordon that Claudius had not yet come downstairs. "Please tell him that I wish to see him, immediately."

"Yes, Sir."

Titus Malfoy sat on a wing chair to one side of the fireplace when Claudius entered the room. His father gestured to the matching chair opposite his own and the son sat down. There was a moment of strained silence.

"You asked to see me," Claudius stated.

"I am searching for what to say. A young man has been staying at the inn in Little Wimsey. He's been there since spring term ended at Hogwarts. It appears my money has been paying for his stay. Do you deny this?"

"No. It is true."

"May I assume that your nocturnal excursions after you tell me that you have retired for the night are to Little Wimsey?"

"You may."

"Claudius, I... I don't know what to do. This is wrong."

"It is not wrong. It is merely different from what society demands."

"The demands of society are important. They keep us from living like animals."

"They keep us in cages and deny me happiness in life."

"Happiness is not the only purpose of life."

"If I believed unhappiness is all that is possible I'd kill myself now."

"I forbid you to–"

"I am renouncing my inheritance."

"What?"

"If you were sickly I might wait for you to die. But your health is excellent - better than my own. While I rejoice at your good health, because I do love you, I will not wait fifty years or more for you to die so that I can be with someone I care for, and who cares for me."

"Don't be absurd. Where will you go? How will you live?"

"One can live very cheaply in France. It has the advantage that few know the name of Malfoy – which by the way I intend to change. I would do nothing to bring disgrace on the family name."

"Even to live cheaply requires money. How will you obtain that?"

"I don't know. But between Peter and me we will find some way to make ends meet."

"You would give up this home, your inheritance for... for..."

"Yes. Face the facts father. You know I have no interest in women."

"I've always hoped that, in time, perhaps you would change."

"I find that unlikely. I am what I am. The land and title will pass to cousin Marcus – if he is still alive at the time of your demise. I thought of asking him for a stipend until your death, but he is tight with his money and would fear that you'd outlive him. His son certainly doesn't have an extra sou to pass on."

"Claudius. You are my son. You can't do this."

"I am your son. And I can do this."

"I won't accept this!"

"What choice do you have? I will leave. I am of a legal age."

"Give me a minute to think." There was a long pause as father and son stared at each other.

"You once asked about a grand tour."

"And you said no, because of my inattention in my classes."

"There are two manuscripts at Durmstrang I would like copied. If you will go there and copy them I will pay for your continued travel on the continent for a year following the making of the copies."

"Does the offer include paying for Peter to accompany me. His family has cut him off completely."

"No."

"Then I cannot accept your offer. Peter and I wish to be with each other."

"Give me another minute to think." There was another uncomfortable lull in the conversation.

"My next offer. You will not see your friend at all for the next three weeks–"

"What?"

"You are attempting to be discrete, but there is still gossip. You will not see him for the next three weeks – although you will send him an owl with my proposal, should you accept. After Miss Kestrel and Miss Kelly leave, assuming we can be rid of Miss Kelly–"

"Excuse me?"

"I'll explain later. At the end of their visit you and your friend may leave England for Durmstrang and–"

"And you will finance the trip, for Peter too?"

"Yes." Claudius showed excitement as his father continued. "After my copies are complete I will finance you and your friend on the continent for a year. At the end of that time you will return here and we will discuss your future."

"My future is cheap lodging in France."

"I hope you will come to your senses during your grand tour."

"I believe I came to my senses when I decided I had to leave and be with Peter. Father, may I introduce him to you? Please? You won't even say his name – you keep referring to him as my friend."

"I will not have him in the house... I will not have him in the house at this time. Perhaps my opinion will change during your travels."

"I hope so."

"So, do you accept my proposal?"

"And at the end of my tour with Peter?"

"I don't know. Perhaps I am a coward and delaying a decision until then. I told you that I hope you come to your senses during that time – familiarity can breed contempt. You are willing to renounce your inheritance – perhaps I can accept the idea then. Perhaps I will finance a home for you and your friend in France, nothing too extravagant. You are my son and I love you."

"I love you. Can I see Peter and tell him–"

"Write."

"I will write. It will be difficult, but he must agree. Your proposal is better than anything either of us imagined."

"And you will write me while you are traveling?"

"Of course I will write to you. You are my father."

Claudius beamed during supper and his father, if still slightly melancholy, appeared in a better mood.

"Father is sending me to Europe for the tour," the younger Malfoy announced.

"There is work for him to do. He'll be copying two manuscripts at Durmstrang before he can enjoy the sights."

"And what is the labor of a few weeks when the prospect of happiness lies ahead? Nothing, nothing at all."

"Will one of the manuscripts be that twelfth century work on curses by a Polish wizard I found mentioned?" Mr. Prewett asked.

Claudius looked at his father. "Yes," Titus told Matthias.

"I envy you being able to look at it before I see it."

"Will Lizzy and Charles still be at Durmstrang when Claude gets there?" Kitty asked Vivien.

"I doubt it. They're to leave for Moscow in a week." She turned to Claudius, "When will you leave for the continent?"

"Probably not for three weeks. They will be gone when I arrive." _"Thankfully."_

Vivien found an opportunity to speak to Mr. Malfoy before they retired. "You are melancholy at the prospect of Claudius's travels?"

"It will be a longer separation than his time at Hogwarts. He was always home between terms and during the summers."

"Is there any chance Mr. Trotter needs your presence tomorrow?"

"I don't believe so."

"But we will go out anyway, because it makes you happy."

"I suspect we will be going out because you enjoy it. Perhaps you can ride Sparta, since Miss Kelly will be too busy to give him his exercise."

"Another day, perhaps. I suspect I am not ready to ride a horse with spirit and I'm quite certain there is no room for the food hamper on the saddle."

During the leisurely morning ride Mr. Trotter informed his employer about the eviction of the Smiths. Mr. Malfoy told his steward there would soon be a new veterinarian in the area, a woman. Mr. Trotter expressed his skepticism at the idea, but was told he would use her services. Tenants found guessing about Vivien's identity, and why she was traveling with the pair, a source for endless gossip.

With no pressing concerns lunch was a protracted meal and it was late in the afternoon when they turned homeward. Several minutes after Mr Trotter left for his home Vivien drew back on the reins. "Stop!"

Mr. Malfoy drew back the reins, and looked around, wondering why she had ordered a halt. Seeing nothing around them he pressed a knee to one flank of his horse and it moved to the side of the dogcart. "What is it?"

"Look," she told him and gestured at the horizon, "isn't that a glorious sunset?"

He stared silently at the reds, yellows, and oranges in the sky for a moment and then laughed.

Miss Kestrel found it a curious response to the view. "Why did you laugh?"

"You asked me to watch a sunset."

"I don't understand."

"No. You wouldn't." He pointed to the right. "Turn the cart, head that way."

"Why?"

"You'll see."

They rode for a little more than a mile and were near the summit of a wooded hill when Mr. Malfoy told her to stop the cart and climb down. He led her to a badly overgrown path. "Sorry, I've not been here in years," he said as he pushed back branches for her as they climbed the short trail to a clearing.

"Oh, my," Vivien said softly. The sunset was even more glorious from the new perspective as they looked out over the landscape, with Malfoy Manor visible in the distance. "This is beautiful."

"Indeed," he smiled. "And this is the best spot on all my land for the enjoyment of a good sunset. I daresay it will enhance the appearance of even a middling sort of sunset and make the viewer believe it is a good sunset when watched from here."

They watched as the sun descended slightly, adding a hint of violet the scene. "We should leave before it gets too dark," he told her.

"Why did you laugh when I told you to stop and look at the sunset," she asked as they walked the short path from the clearing to where the horses waited.

"I laughed at the absurdity of my own negligence. I laughed that it took you to remind me of myself."

"I am not certain... Did you answer my question or not?"

"I answered it, but only for myself. Once upon a time–"

"Must you begin with 'Once upon a time'?" she sighed.

"Oh, in this case it is vital," he assured her as he gave her a hand to help her climb into the cart. He swung onto his horse and they began to descend from the hill. "Once upon a time Titus Malfoy... Perhaps you have heard of him?"

"The name is vaguely familiar."

"Once upon a time Titus Malfoy loved to look at sunsets. Then one day he married a young woman who saw nothing beautiful in sunsets. She viewed them as the death of the day and wanted nothing to do with them – it meant the end of the ride, or the hunt, or the picking of berries, or any of the other things she loved dearly. She wished every day could last forever. Over time he persuaded her to accept them as things of beauty. The two of them had a spot they loved to go and watch the sunsets–"

"A clearing atop a small hill?"

"Yes... I've not been there since she died. Thank you for making it remember it today. Thank you for making me look at a sunset again and appreciate its beauty.

"You loved her very much, didn't you?"

"Yes."

There seemed nothing more to say as they rode back, each lost in thought.

Several letters required the attention of Mr. Malfoy after dinner, including two invitations to dine. The invitation from Mrs. March was for everyone, including Matthias, to dinner any day which suited them next week. He looked over at the card table – Claudius and Vivien, the two best whist players among the four had taken Kitty and Matthias as their partners, respectively, to keep the game from being two uneven. Yorick's stand stood at a corner of the table between Claudius and Vivien and Claudius allowed the skull to view his cards and explained details of the game. "Mrs. March has invited us all to dinner next week, on the day of our choosing. Is there are any sort of preference?"

"Tuesday." "Wednesday." "Tuesday." "Thursday."

"And I cast my vote for Wednesday, so it will be Wednesday."

"Why did you ask," Claudius demanded, "if you had already decided?"

"Had three of you agreed on a day I might have changed my mind," Titus told his son as dipped his quill in ink to begin his reply.

The second invitation, from the Bedfords, was for Titus and Claudius alone a few days from Vivien and Kitty were scheduled to leave. Mr. Malfoy sighed. He would, of course, be seated by Lydia Bedford at the meal and she would fawn and compliment. He looked over at the card table and called, "Yorick!"

"That is not my name."

"T'is enough, t'will serve until such time as you give us a real name. I–"

"Never."

"I am in need of being insulted, and am hoping you will oblige."

"What?"

"I require some perspective. I received a letter from someone who flattered me – which I do not deserve, and–"

"Damned straight."

"Exactly. And I was hoping you might cast your usual pall upon the evening by offering some insults to me or my family."

"You are asking me to insult you?"

"Exactly."

"I... I can do nothing other than extend my sympathy to my friend Claudius for the descent of his father into madness."

Titus laughed, "Very good. Thank you."

"A fellow of infinite jest," Mr. Prewett commented.

"Damn!" the skull muttered.

"Claudius, We've been invited to dine with the Bedfords in three weeks. I am tempted to gently decline the invitation, but it strikes me you should see the neighbors before you leave for the continent."

"If we will be seeing Mrs. March in a week we might ask her for a recommendation for someone to work in the stable," Mr. Prewett suggested.

"An excellent–"

"Wait," the skull objected. "Claudius is leaving?"

"Father agreed only yesterday."

"Does that mean this damned girl will experiment on me with charms again?"

"You have embarrassed me quite enough," Miss Kestrel informed him. "Now, notice the long suit I am holding and try to assess how I will establish it."

"You're informing your partner you have a long suit," Claudius complained. "That's cheating."

"It's not cheating! We're playing for amusement - and to show Yorick the rules of the game!"

Mr. Malfoy chuckled and returned to his mail. At the end of the evening Claudius left the stand with the skull on a small side table. "Will you return that to your room or the dungeon?" Titus demanded.

"Tomorrow," Claudius yawned.

The son held a hurried conference with his father at the head of the stairs. "A house elf will straighten the library early tomorrow and put the stand on that shelf to the left of the fireplace. You will pretend not to notice. He will believe that he and I have tricked you."

"He will have to remain silent if I'm to feign ignorance of his being there – and warn the others. Miss Kelly will probably scream if she comes upon him by accident."

"I've told Matthias and Viv. She's supposed to tell Kitty tonight."

"And when he is discovered?"

"He will laugh and call you a fool for not seeing him earlier. Then he will demand you return him to the dungeon. In a fit of pique you will deny his request and say if he wanted to be on the shelf he may damn well stay there."

Thursday dawned overcast and rather than risk being drenched again Miss Kestrel and Mr. Malfoy did not go out to the farms. In the late morning the sky cleared somewhat and the two rode near the Manor with Claudius and Kitty. Vivien was on the back of the cob, once again, and Kitty rode Sparta. The men occasionally pointed out features of the landscape and related them to family history.

"Do you see that huge oak over there?" Mr. Malfoy asked Miss Kelly, pointing to an enormous tree.

"Aye."

"We call it the Druid Oak, quite possibly the most ancient oak in Britain." He slapped the flank of his mount to encourage a gallop, "And I'll race you around it and back!" He had a good lead before Kitty could respond and urge Sparta to a gallop.

"I can't believe your father would cheat," Vivien commented to Claudius.

"He isn't cheating. Sparta's the fastest horse he owns, he is simply adjusting the handicap."

"That lead? He must win."

"Bet you a sickle he loses."

Vivien eyed the distance and the space between the horses, "I accept.

"Good to see father happy again," Claudius told Vivien as they watched the race. "I resented it when he invited the two of you here, but it has been good for him."

Two minutes later Kitty returned, a length and a half in front of her host.

"Kitty?"

"Yes?"

"Can you loan me a sickle?"

"Why?"

"She bet against you," Claudius told the Irish girl. "She doesn't know Sparta and thought my father had cheated to gain an advantage."

"You bet against me, and you want to borrow a sickle?" Kitty sniffed. "I'm not Lizzy. I don't have a knut to spare."

"She bet on me?" Titus asked. "I'll pay her debt of honor."

"She bet on you," his son agreed, "but she said you were cheating."

"I did not!" Vivien protested. "I said I couldn't believe he would cheat – he has too much integrity."

"When you say you can't believe someone's cheating it means you think he is cheating."

Titus Malfoy held up a hand for silence. "Who offered the bet?"

"I did," Claudius told him.

"Since you offered it, and you know Sparta's ability, I shall pay you the sickle. I will see her bet as a sign of confidence in my ability. Miss Kestrel?"

"Yes."

"I advise you not to bet against my son."

"I should have learned that at Hogwarts."

"And I would add," Claudius told her, "don't bet against my father."

Late in the afternoon, back at the Hall, Mr. Malfoy looked out the window. "I imagine the clouds will make for an exceptional sunset."

"Is that an invitation?" Vivien asked.

"I... I suppose it is."

As the sun sank low it illuminated the bottoms of the clouds, lighting the entire horizon as if it were on fire.

Vivien stared at the unfamiliar sight. "Mother and I never saw such sunsets. The sky is gray in the city. At Hogwarts... Well, there are no windows in in Slytherin, although I was sometimes outside."

"Do you remember your father at all?"

"No... Mother has a miniature and that is fixed in my memory as the way he looked. Why?"

"Standing by you I suddenly felt old. I am old enough to be your father."

"Had he lived my father would have been much older than you. You must have been terribly young yourself when Claudius was born."

"It didn't seem that way at the time, but you are right. I would have only been a year or two older than Claudius is now – and I can't imagine him as a father."

"You see, you are not old at all. And you have multiple women in pursuit of you... That one you mentioned last night... Lydia something, and the woman who walked in with us at the Whitleys."

"Abigail. They are both muggles."

"But either would consider you a fine catch."

He laughed, "And my head would be stuffed and mounted and displayed over the fireplace as a trophy."

She looked at him in the growing twilight, then stretched out her hand and softly touched his cheek. "I think I prefer your head where it is now, on your shoulders."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. "We, ah, should return to the Hall for dinner."

She cursed herself inwardly for the gesture as they walked silently back to the horses. What would he think of her? That she was a flirt? That she was an opportunist after his money? It had made him uncomfortable, she was certain of that. He probably doubted her motives of her morals – perhaps both.

His thoughts were rather different from what she imagined. _"I am old enough to be her father,"_ he reminded himself. _"She attended Hogwarts with my son."_

After dinner Claudius announced he planned to talk with his mother's portrait and then work on straightening closets and wardrobes as he considered what clothing he would require for his travels and what books, clothing, and toys he felt he would never need again. "I will need muggle clothing for most of the journey. I'll prepare a list tonight and take the floo to the City tomorrow. Need to get things started if there is a prayer of having them finished before I leave." He turned to Vivien, "Does your shop do muggle men's wear?"

She blushed at the reminder of her own rung on the social ladder, "Yes," she mumbled. She was a shop girl at best and had no business at the Malfoy home, and even less business touching her host in a familiar manner.

"I'll go there then. Father, you don't have business tonight – why don't you take my place at the whist table and continue Kitty's lessons? I've taken the skull up my room so you won't need to continue his lessons as well." He said the last loudly enough for the skull to hear in what it presumed was its unknown location.

Titus Malfoy awakened slightly earlier than usual on Friday. He dressed and went downstairs. He tapped his fingers nervously on the table which Miss Sloper took as a sign of impatience at the house elves for not getting breakfast done more quickly for their master. In reality he was concerned about the day. He wished he could spend time alone with Miss Kestrel, but knew that would be inappropriate. Miss Kelly would be in the stable. Matthias had work to do. Claudius had spoken about going to London. He didn't need to go out with Mr. Trotter, but that might serve the purpose of allowing him to be with Miss Kestrel while not being alone with her.

As he pondered his plans for the day Claudius entered the room.

"You're up unusually early," the father commented.

"Off to London. Oh, I will not be seeing Peter while there. He is delirious happy with your proposal and will do nothing the jeopardize it. Were I to try and see him before the agreed upon time I feel confident he would whack me with a beater's club. Do you wish to see the list of what I plan to order?"

"Yes, please." Claudius pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to his father. "A shorter list than I expected."

"Practicality is the order of the day. Too much baggage will slow me down – and ordering too many new clothes will delay the departure. Should I purchase supplies for copying the manuscripts in Diagon, or wait until I arrive at Durmstrang?"

"You can wait, fewer things to ship."

"Thank you. Oh, I may stay in London most of the day to gather travel schedules, if that meets with your approval."

"Fine idea."

"What is a fine idea?" Miss Kelly asked as she entered the room with Vivien.

"Claudius will find travel schedules while in London," Mr. Malfoy answered. He looked at Vivien. "You know the City. Do you want to accompany him?" Mr. Malfoy recognized it would probably be safer for him to have the pretty witch gone for the day.

"Father still hopes that throwing us together might result in an engagement," Claudius chuckled. "But seriously, Viv, it would make my errands much easier. Lunch wherever you want."

Vivien hesitated. She felt like she was being tested and wasn't sure if the right answer was to go with Claudius or stay. If she agreed to go it might appear she still had an interest in marriage to him – which she had given up. Turning him down might make her appear truculent, or make it seem she had turned her sights on Mr. Malfoy. She looked at her host, "What would you prefer I do?"

Claudius shook his head in amazement, "Kitty, in seven years of living with Viv, did you ever hear her ask that question?"

"Maybe to Lizzy. Seems like she usually owed Lizzy money after making some bad wager."

Titus Malfoy coughed gently to gain attention, "Miss Kestrel, I would consider it a great personal favor if you would help Claudius today... Perhaps I can repay you for your time with dinner at the Wand Club this evening?"

"Excellent idea, father, when should we be there this evening?" Claudius chimed in.

Mr. Malfoy hesitated. In his mind he had pictured himself dining alone with Miss Kestrel. That, however, would have been disastrous for her reputation and utterly inappropriate on his part for him to be seen with her. "Six-thirty." He turned to Kitty, "Have you eaten at the Wand Club?"

"No."

"We will give the house elves the evening off. You and Mr. Prewett will also dine there."

After breakfast Claudius and Vivien departed by floo for the Leaky Cauldron.

Vivien wondered if Claudius chose her mother's shop for his wardrobe to humiliate her with the memory of her position. "Why are you going here?"

"Because I hear it is the best."

Mrs. Kestrel was delighted to see her daughter and assumed her plans were going well when Vivien entered the shop with a young man. She had a few minutes to quietly ask questions after Claudius had been measured and was looking at the bolts of available tweed. "How is your pursuit going?"

"I've given up on being Mrs. Malfoy. It will not happen."

"He is not buying for trip abroad after marrying you?"

"No."

"I'm sorry. You had your heart set on–"

"I would prefer not to talk about it. It was a mistake. I realize that now."

Kestrel's took most of the morning. A muggle pub provided lunch and the afternoon was spent on inquiries about channel crossings, shipping rates, and coach schedules on the continent. To Vivien's surprise Claudius spent so much time speaking with an agent about homes to let in France that she had to remind him they needed to move quickly to get to the Club.

At six-thirty the fireplace in the Club's smoking room flared and Mr. Malfoy, Miss Kelly, and Mr. Prewett stepped out.

Kitty looked around, "We're eating here?"

"This room is for wizards who wish to enjoy a cigar or pipe. It is also for those arriving by floo. We will eat in the smaller dining room," Mr. Malfoy whispered.

Kitty's nerves failed her at the sight of crystal, silverware, and damask napkins on the crisp white linen tablecloths in the dining room. "This is scarier than the dungeon," she whispered, What's all those forks and spoons by each place?"

"Different silverware for different courses," Vivien told her quietly.

Whispered directions from Mr. Prewett and closely following Vivien's actions allowed Kitty to finish the meal without bolting from the room, but her fears of doing something wrong kept her unable to enjoy the food.

"Viv's picking up some peculiar habits out here in the country," Kitty remarked to her host during breakfast on Saturday.

"Oh?"

"Shhh," Miss Kestrel hissed.

Miss Kelly continued, "Getting up early. Never knew Viv to get out of bed before ten at Hogwarts – unless she had a class or something."

"If there is nothing special to do one may as well rest," Vivien answered defensively. "I am finding things to do here in the country." She turned to her host. "What shall we do today? Shall we go out with Mr. Trotter?"

"I fear I have no particular plans for the day. I thought we might ride with Miss Kelly while she exercises Sparta, then continue our ride and return in the afternoon. I am taking your advice and letting Mr. Trotter do his job without peering over his shoulder."

"That will not do," Vivien told him. "I had my heart set on a picnic. But you are right to give Mr. Trotter his freedom from supervision today, and that means it will be your duty to have luncheon _al fresco_ with me. And, because I spent yesterday helping Claudius in the city I will impose a further forfeit – you must show me the most beautiful site on your property for a picnic."

Kitty laughed, "Claude was right yesterday. You don't hear Viv offer to do whatever you want very often – and when you do it appears you end up paying for it later."

Titus smiled, "I don't suppose you might accept the second most beautiful spot?" he offered in counter-proposal. "We could save the most beautiful for another day."

"No. I walked my feet off yesterday in service to Claudius and I deserve the most beautiful spot. You may keep the second best in reserve for when I perform some lesser accomplishment."

Shortly after noon Titus spread out a carpet and Vivien set down the hamper. They were at the shaded edge of a meadow with a view of tilled fields. "Are you certain this is the most beautiful?" she demanded. "I had imaged something wild in the forest."

"Better for our reputations to be in the open. I wouldn't want a tenant seeing our horses and wondering what we were doing in the woods."

With no demands pressing on either of them they stayed in the meadow for hours. She encouraged him to tell her of his time at Hogwarts. As the shadows began to lengthen she imagined she understood his late wife's opinion. She did not want the day to end, she wanted to stay seated by him forever. "We should be returning to the Hall."

"Another half hour?" she pleaded.

"Another demand?"

"No... I simply enjoy being here with you more than backgammon or whist."

He smiled, "And your answer purchases another half hour of my undivided attention."

On Sunday morning Kitty used the excuse of needing to tend the horses to keep from attending Reverend Henley's service.

As they arrived at the church more whispering then usual could be heard as Vivien stepped down from the carriage.

"This is the sort of trouble putting charms on muggles causes," her host whispered as they went inside.

The pretty witch caught parishioners staring at her whenever she glanced around the sanctuary, but she wanted to believe it was only her beauty, or the fact she occupied a place on the pew between their landlord and his son which made her the center of attention. She learned another motive at the end of the service.

At the end of the service, as the Malfoy party left the church, Reverend Henley warmly shook the hand of Mr. Malfoy and nodded in the direction of Miss Kestrel. "I am delighted you could bring the angel."

"Angel?" Claudius snorted. "I am certain that is the first time anyone referred to Viv in that manner."

"It is the talk of the parish," the minister assured him. "Some ask if she could walk on water."

"Assure them I cannot," Vivien told him.

Mr. Prewett made his customary adjustment to his glasses relative to their position on his nose. "They are attributing miracle to Miss Kestrel?"

"She and Baron Malfoy visited a family in the parish, the Throutons, and afterward the husband claims to have had a religious experience. He has renounced drinking and vowed to be a loving father and husband. My suspicion is that he suffered from delirium tremens, but later in the week she was able to put the fear of God into a thief who confessed his sins, and that caused some of my parishioners to remember that she had visited the Throutons and–"

"How is the Throuton family?" Vivien interjected.

"I'm hoping that whatever fear he imagined will stay with him," the reverend told her. "His wife and children are delighted with the change, and I pray the domestic change will encourage him to remain on the narrow path. I am more curious how you worked your miracle with Billy Smith."

"There was no miracle," Miss Kestrel assured him. "I hoped that a guilty conscience might be preying upon him and reminded him of the gospel. If any miracle was wrought the credit must be given to God."

The man of God smiled, "Your modesty is becoming, but it won't stop speculation in the parish that you served as his ministering angel."

Claudius teased Vivien on her elevation to sainthood on the ride back to the manor.

Miss Kestrel tried in vain to spend time alone with her host in the afternoon, but failed on every attempt. She wasn't certain what was happening. She had enjoyed their time together yesterday so much she wanted to know him even better. If he reciprocated her feelings she thought he would surely be just as anxious to spend time with her. He had promised her nothing, said nothing of love, but she had never felt as happy in her life as she had the afternoon before. Perhaps she had read too much into his friendship. Or, she reflected, the comments he had made about her not being a suitable match for Claudius indicated he had no interest in her.

In the afternoon she rode with with him, and Kitty and Claudius as Mr. Prewett went to fetch Reverend Henley, but there was no time for private conversation. At dinner she was separated from him.

After dinner Mr. Malfoy himself drove the Reverend back to his manse, with the excuse he wanted to discuss matters of the parish – but as Vivien sat down to whist with Claudius, Kitty, and Matthias she felt certain her host had chosen the task simply to remove himself from her presence.

Vivien's guess was correct in that Mr. Malfoy deliberately sought to avoid her. Her guess that their relative social positions was a factor was correct. Social convention was clear – she was too inferior for a relationship. But he had not felt as happy in years as he had felt as they ate in the meadow yesterday. Which created the second problem for Titus Malfoy, the certainty that any feelings for Vivien were an insult to the memory of his late wife. And his final problem was the difference in their ages – he had a son her age. It was not safe for him to be alone with her any more. He would make certain they were always in the presence of another person. Mr. Trotter filled that position very well, he might go out with Miss Kestrel on business with the steward, but under no circumstances would he allow himself to be alone with her again.

On the return of Mr. Malfoy from taking the reverend home Mr. Prewett offered him his place at the card table, with Vivien as a partner.

"No thank you. I have estate business to attend to," he replied, moving to the desk. "I'll leave you young people to the cards."

Vivien spent so much time stealing glances at Titus Malfoy, wondering what was going on in his mind, to make her play at the table spectacularly poor.

"Where is your head, Viv?" Kitty demanded. "You're playing worse than I am."

"Sorry," she apologized to those at the table. "I have a headache."

"One more game before you retire?" Claudius asked. "I do so enjoy beating you and Matthias."

Vivien did her best to concentrate on playing, but to no avail.

She went to her room at the game's end and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. To be so near him, and yet ignored by him, was agony. She should never have come. She had no business hoping to wed Claudius, his father had seen that and told her so bluntly. He could not see her in any other light than the daughter of a Diagon seamstress who had desired to marry his son for the family money. She closed her eyes, her temples throbbing. The headache was real enough, and it would only grow stronger if she remained under the roof of Titus Malfoy. Instead of undressing for bed she stood up and began packing her things.

Downstairs Titus Malfoy took Vivien's place at the card table. He spent enough time thinking of Miss Kestrel that his own game went poorly.

It was after eleven when Vivien opened her door. The house was quiet, but there was still light coming up the stairs. She checked Kitty's room, but the Irish girl was not there so Vivien quickly wrote a short note. She slipped into Kitty's room and left the parchment, then pulled her levitated trunk through the dark hallway. She pushed open the doorway to the nursery and approached the fireplace.

"Who's there?" a voice demanded.

The blond witch allowed the trunk to settle to the floor. _"Lumos!"_ By the light of her wand she saw the speaker was the portrait of Mrs. Malfoy.

"I believe you are Miss Kestrel," the painting commented.

"Yes, M'am. I was told this fireplace connects with the floo network."

"It is. Very handy for the physicians if the baby is colicky or has the croup. May I ask why you are here? The fact you appear fully packed says you are leaving, but the hour is most unusual as is the fact you are using this fireplace and not one of the larger ones."

"I need to leave."

"Why? I am quite certain you were invited for at least a month."

"Yes, M'am... But I don't... I can't stay."

"And I am asking why. This is most unusual."

"I will never marry your son."

"I am well aware of that. Claudius has spoken with me. Were you so much in love with him that it represents a great disappointment to you?"

"No... I... Since I recognized that truth I would feel foolish remaining here."

"Forgive me, I am still puzzled. Do you think it was foolish to desire an advantageous marriage?"

Vivien hesitated. She could be ridiculed for either answer. "It was foolish of me to come here. I had no right to any expectations."

"Of course not, but you had them anyway. And I still don't understand why you are sneaking off in the middle of the night."

"Because, as I told you, I would feel foolish staying here."

"Your behavior was either not foolish or it was foolish. If it was not foolish there is no reason for you to leave – certainly no reason to leave like a thief in the night. If it were foolish it will be no less foolish at a distance than it would be by facing it here – and your foolishness would be further compounded by your flight."

"No... I can't face your husband."

"First, let me remind you he is not my husband. I am a portrait. Has Titus said anything to you which has made you think you should leave? I can't believe that of him. Are you sure you are not mistaken in the meaning of his words."

"He said nothing, I–"

"Then what did he do?"

"He has done nothing wrong! He is a gentleman in every way! I have never met a kinder, more thoughtful man in my entire life! He has been... His behavior is... I... I have to go."

"Child, you are having a little difficulty with the concept of answering a question. I ask a question because I am in want of clarification. You, in providing an answer, are supposed to supply the clarification I desire. You, however, are leaving me in a state of either greater confusion. Titus is a very kind and thoughtful man. Why does this make you want to leave the house in the middle of the night? You will hurt his feelings by making him think he is a poor host."

"I don't mean to hurt anyone, honestly I don't. But I can't stay."

"And for the... I didn't count... This is probably the fourth or fifth time I've asked you, 'Why?'."

"Because... Because I have become fond of him."

Had the portrait required breath she would have sighed deeply, "I asked you to try and clarify my understanding with your answers, not to confuse me further."

"I... I like your husband very–"

"Stop. Repeat after me, not my husband."

"Not your husband."

"Very good. Proceed."

"I have become very fond of Mr. Malfoy while here. He is kindness and compassion and thoughtfulness and good humor and–"

"Yes, yes. And his wife loved him, but she had a somewhat more realistic knowledge of him. But why does a fondness for him cause you to flee the... Oh," the portrait stopped talking for a moment, then continued gently, " And it hurts so much that you fear being with him will cause you even greater agony than you cause yourself by leaving in this manner?"

Vivien nodded dumbly.

"I am sorry, child."

"He loved you very much."

"He loved his late wife very much," the picture reminded her. "And while I am gratified to hear that I am uncertain what difference it makes."

"He loved her. He thinks I'm a selfish, vain, stupid child."

"I can't believe Titus would say that of anyone."

"He doesn't have to. I know. He thinks I came here with clothes designed to impress him... I probably did. But I don't understand anything. I make a fool of myself time and again. I just want to go home and forget the name of Malfoy."

"Why do you think you made a fool of yourself?"

"I don't know what to say. I don't know how to act. I don't even know how to dress, I–"

"You are talking nonsense again. If you are a Kestrel how could you not know how to dress?"

"I don't know anything here. I belong in the city. There I understand what is expected of me. Coming here was the most ill-considered thing I've ever done – I was too foolish to even realize it was a mistake."

"Would you feel any better if I told you that Titus does not have a good sense of the expectations on him when he visits the city?"

"No, for I would not believe you."

"Why not."

"I would think you were saying it merely to make me feel better."

"I am saying it to make you feel better, but it doesn't alter the truth. His father hated the city and Titus could sometimes make great fashion blunders. We tried to raise Claudius to be comfortable in both, but... Poor Claudius. I fear he will never find a place in which he may be comfortable."

"I must leave," Vivien told the portrait, pulling aside the fire screens to make the fireplace accessible..

"Where will you go at this time of night?" the painting asked.

"The Leaky Cauldron... My mother's shop... Our shop is near... Someone will help."

The painting tried to warn her, "You can't solve your problems by running away." But before she could finish Miss Kestrel was gone.

* * *

Kitty yawned and uncurled herself from the chair in the library. "I can't believe I finished that novel," she commented to Mr. Prewett, who labored behind a pile of tomes at the library table.

"Turning in?"

"Yes. You?"

"I want to finish indexing this manuscript tonight."

"Well, I'll see you in the morning."

Assuming Vivien had been asleep for several hours Kitty didn't knock on her friend's door. She looked out her bedroom window before undressing and frowned, there appeared to be a light from the stable. The Irish girl wondered if it was some manner of reflection from the house. She thought she heard a whinny, but doubted that was even possible, given the distance from house to stable, and suspected it was nothing but her own imagination. Still, she knew she would be unable to sleep if she didn't investigate. She left her room quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone or give them the opportunity to laugh at her for groundless fears.

The door to the stable creaked open to Kitty's push, and she realized her fears were not groundless. A lantern, the wick turned low, hung from a nail driven into a post and she could see several saddles and other equipment of value piled to be loaded. She should have returned to the house and requested assistance, but what she saw angered her – and Kitty did not always think clearly when angry.

She realized that when she was grabbed from behind. A rough hand went over her mouth to keep her quiet and another hand ripped at her shirt.

"Didn' think I'd find you," a voice whispered in her ear.

She bit down on the hand.

Her attacker groaned in pain and jerked her head back painfully, but didn't let go. The hand pawing at her tried to cuff her head.

Kitty tasted her attacker's blood in her mouth. She twisted in his hands, and was struck in the face, but pulled free.

"Clarence?"

He grabbed her arm to keep her from running, and slapped her with his bloody hand.

The blow knocked her to the ground.

He tried to jump on top of her, but she rolled to the side and scrambled to her feet. She managed to kick him in the gonads, and wished she were wearing work boots and not light house shoes.

The kick hurt, but Clarence couldn't let her escape the stable and raise the alarm. He tackled her, hard. slamming her against the wooden wall of a stall and knocking the breath from her small body and bruising himself.

Kitty couldn't get at the wand in the pocket sewn into her sleeve, but she defended herself with desperation. Even with the breath knocked out of her lungs she brought her knee up into his crotch.

It wasn't a square hit, but he groaned in pain and swung a fist at her. She twisted aside and he hit the planks with his fist, bringing another groan to his lips.

She hit him, but she was a fraction of his size and the blow seemed only to anger him. She hit him again, then an open handed slap sent her reeling, her head ringing.

* * *

Matthias Prewett sat in the Malfoy library, trying to catch up on one of the many projects which had been so-often interrupted since the arrival of the two young women. He glanced up at the sound of the door opening, but it was too dark for a clear view of whoever had entered the room.

"Help me... Please..."

The voice sounded somewhat like that of Miss Kelly, but with a note of fear Matthias had never heard from the young woman. The scholar shoved himself back from the library table and ran to her. As he neared her he saw the torn clothing. Dirt and straw covered her clothing, with straw in the locks of hair which had worked loose from the braid. Scratches on her face added some blood to the dirt on her countenance. He skidded to a half, uncertain how to proceed. "What happened? What can I do? Can I get you anything? I..."

"Stable... Went out... Attacked."

"Who attacked?" Matthias demanded, his voice harsh with anger.

"Clarence. I–"

"Let me get my wand," Mr. Prewett told her and spun on his heel and ran back to the desk for his tool. "I'll find him."

"He's in stable," Kitty gasped. "I may have killed him."

"What?"

"I think he wanted to... to... abuse me. He didn't expect me to fight. When... After I knocked him down I hit him. And hit him. I... I may... I don't know if he's alive."

"Sit down, calm your nerves," Matthias suggested. "I'll go the stable and see what–"

"No," she said, clutching his arm. "I don't want to be alone."

"Go up and see Miss Kestrel."

"Not now. I have... You... I'll show you. I need to know."

She clung to him as they left the Hall and walked through the night to the stable. A mixture of anger and uncertainty preyed on the thin scholar. Part of him wished the stablehand was dead. Part of him wished the stablehand was still alive – so that Matthias might have the pleasure of killing him himself. And part of him feared the stablehand was less injured than Miss Kelly imagined and was now hiding in the night, armed with some improvised weapon from a tool in the stable and lying in wait to attack them. He kept a firm grip on his wand, but found his hand trembled. He cautiously pushed open the stable door and the two heard a groan.

"Sounds alive," Mr. Prewett whispered. The lantern hanging on the nail still burned and cast a dim circle of illumination. "Stay here," he ordered. "Perhaps he has recovered enough to fight again."

The Irish girl obeyed and stayed near the door as the thin scholar cautiously advanced. Even a cursory examination suggested the former stablehand would not be attacking anyone for a long time.

"You said you hit him?"

"Yes."

"What did you hit him with?"

"A shovel... One for mucking out the stalls."

"Well, that explains the odor."

"Is he going to die?"

"We're all going to die. But I don't think you've inflicted wounds which will do the job. Let me look a little closer." He took down the lantern and conducted a closer examination. "Broken and cracked bones, but they could be set easily enough – not that I plan to. No serious lacerations so he won't bleed to death. I shall inform Mr. Malfoy and contact the sheriff."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't want muggles messing about. Maybe they'll see something. Mr. Malfoy has been kind and I don't want to cause him any problems."

"Well we can't very well leave Clarence here."

"Could you do something?"

"What?"

"Please?"

"What do you want me to do?" Matthias sighed.

"I don't know... Drive him out in a wagon and drop him somewhere?"

"No. I don't... Fine, I'll do it. On the condition you go into the house and stay with Miss Kestrel."

"I... All right."

Mr. Prewett pointed his wand at the unconscious Clarence.

"What are you going to do?" Kitty demanded.

"Memory charm. He won't remember what happened."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I want him to remember. I want him to remember a woman half his size beat him bloody. I want him to be afraid to ever show his face here again. I want him to be afraid that if he ever attacked another woman she might be able to beat him to death."

"Uh, yes. Well, you go into the house and I'll harness the horses–"

"Do you have any idea how to do that?"

"Not really."

"I'll help. Should I go along with you?"

"No, you agreed to go in and see Miss Kestrel. I'll make sure I unhitch the horses and put them in their proper stalls when I get back."

A_ mobilicorpus_ spell loaded the former stablehand onto the back of the wagon. Kitty closed the doors behind him as Matthias drove out into the night, then she headed for the house.

It was more than an hour before Mr. Prewett returned to the house. He wasn't sure about how he had left the wagon, but he congratulated himself on getting the horses properly put away. He'd left Clarence at a side of the road by a crossroads. Whoever found him would assume robbers had beaten him and left him for dead – and Clarence would agree to the story for fear of the true story being known. Matthias would have liked assurance that Kitty was feeling better, but would not knock on her bedroom door or that of Vivien.

_"Lumos,"_ he ordered as the front door closed behind him. The brilliant light illuminated his way up the stairs to his own bedroom. When he entered his room he found a small form curled up on his bed. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Viv's gone," Kitty answered.

"Gone?"

"Could she be in the library or somewhere about the Hall?"

"All her clothes are gone. She's left."

"But... But... What are you doing here?"

She held out a hand, visibly shaking. "I'm still scared. I don't want to be alone. I don't know how I managed to doze off, but... nightmares."

"I... But you can't stay here."

"Why not?"

"It wouldn't be right. There's a bed in here."

"I believe that's why it's called a bedroom."

"You can't stay here with me here."

"When company comes we sometimes have five of us in a bed at home."

"This isn't home... What of your reputation?"

"Right now my nerves are more important than my reputation. Sit and talk with me."

"Fine," he sighed. She patted a spot beside her on the bed. "No. I'll sit here," he told her and moved to a settee near the fireplace. He put his feet up on a tuffet. "What do you want to talk about?"

She looked slightly irritated and rose from the bed and walked over the settee. "I don't need to talk so much, I just don't want to be alone just now." She sat beside him on the small couch as he edged nervously over to give her more room. "Put your arm around me," she ordered as she leaned against him.

"Anything else," he asked timidly as he put his right arm around her and she adjusted her position slightly.

"Nope," she yawned. "Don't have to say a word. I'll feel better in a few minutes. I... Thanks..."

Faster than Mr. Prewett would have imagined possible the soft, regular breathing of a sleeper came from Kitty. He wasn't certain if he would sleep at all.

* * *

Perhaps Mr. Malfoy should have tried to have Billy Smith arrested, but he recognized a serious lack of hard evidence to present to a magistrate and didn't want questions about the curious confession. Billy Smith, accepted being thrown out of his home rather than be arrested and facing transportation or worse.

Medical literature from 1813 attaches the name delirium tremens to the hallucinations and other problems associated with alcohol withdrawal.


	10. All's Well That Ends Well

**Disclaimer**: J K Rowling presented seven years of a school which was supposed to have existed for centuries. Hogwarts 1835 had little from canon besides location. Hogwarts 1940 could serve as a prequel to the canon books. This sequel to 1835 has little from canon but a few family names and a location or two, but those are from Rowling's books. Similarities to any person, living are dead, with the characters in this story is an amazing coincidence.

My parameters for what constitutes canon are defined at the end of chapter one.

**Chapter 10 – All's Well that Ends Well**

The sound of birds awakened Kitty. Still groggy from a poor night's sleep it took the young woman a minute to remember where she was and how she came to be in Mr. Prewett's room. She tried to move without disturbing him which was, of course, impossible.

"Wha..." he mumbled.

"I fell asleep last night," she whispered, "after I came in to talk with you."

He yawned, "How are you feeling?"

"A little better... Thanks."

"It was– You need to get back to your room. I'll check the hallway to insure no one's about."

"Yes... Thank you."

"And Miss Kestrel is really gone?"

"She was last night, as I told you. I wouldn't have disturbed you if she were present."

"And even her clothes were gone?"

"I don't remember exactly what I said," she snapped, "I'm tired and–"

"Sorry, sorry," he apologized. "I know you're upset."

"No, I'm sorry," she answered. "After all you've done for me I should... I'm tired."

"Yes, well, let's not add damaging your reputation to the things I've done for you. I doubt the Slopers are upstairs this early and house elves should remain silent. Let me make certain Mr. Malfoy or Claudius isn't moving about." He waved her behind the door and opened it to look out into the hall. Seeing no one he gestured to her that it was safe to leave.

As Kitty left she impulsively gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and whispered, "Thank you," before slipping down the hall toward her own room.

He stared at her departing form and softly touched the spot where her lips had touched his face. Matthias crawled into bed. He was still exhausted from interrupted sleep and spending most the night upright on the settee, but his mind whirled with too many thoughts for him to achieve the slumber he desired and after a half hour of restless turning he surrendered to consciousness and dressed for breakfast.

Titus Malfoy questioned his own resolve to avoid spending time with Miss Kestrel. Perhaps, even though she had been told there was no need to accompany him, she would go out with him and surprise him with another picnic lunch.

Vivien was not at the breakfast table. He thought nothing of it, being instead focused on the fact that Mr. Prewett looked haggard, as if he had slept poorly or not at all. "What's wrong? Are you feeling ill?"

"Miss Kelly was attacked last night."

"What?"

"She went out to the stables to check on the horses before retiring. Clarence–"

"Clarence?"

"He came back. When Miss Kelly–"

"How is she?"

"Badly shaken. She–"

"I'll find him," Mr. Malfoy said in a grim voice. "And when I do he'll wish he had–"

Matthias coughed gently. "Miss Kelly appears to be very capable of taking care of herself. She fought him off and then beat him rather badly."

"Did he survive?"

"Yes. She asked me to drive him out a few miles in the cart and dump him in a ditch and I obliged. I... I am uncertain if she wished you to know what happened, but I felt you should know the truth."

"Thank you. Perhaps she imagined it would reflect unfavorably on her ability to work."

"Perhaps. I could not think of a reason it should be kept hidden."

"Did she use magic on him? Did you need to apply a memory charm?"

"She did not use magic. She did use a shovel. It appears to have been equally effective in this case. She requested no memory charm be used – she wanted him to know that attacking a woman can be so dangerous he would not try it again." Mr. Malfoy nodded in agreement. "He appeared to have a few broken bones so he will not be making attempts for some time."

"Did Miss Kelly suffer any harm?"

"I don't believe so, at least not physically. She stopped him before... Her nerves were badly shaken from the ordeal. I don't think she will be able to–"

"Of course not," Mr. Malfoy agreed. "I shall probably ask my old stableman to come back briefly, or find someone among the tenants. I shouldn't have allowed her to take–"

"That might be why she didn't want you to know."

"Sorry. You are correct. I believe any of us would be shaken by such an ordeal. She is probably with Miss Kestrel. It is best if she rest – if possible. Should I remain here until I can hear a more complete report?"

Mr. Prewett knew that Kitty was not with Vivien, that Vivien was gone. On the other hand, revealing this information might raise questions about the source of his knowledge. "Let her rest," he suggested. "It would be the best medicine. There is no way of knowing when she might rise. You should do your work – and arrange for someone to come in to the stable."

"Yes, I need to... Do I know anything of last night's events if I am questioned about my need for stable help?"

Mr. Prewett thought for a second. "No, you know nothing. Clarence left so recently many tenants don't know he's gone. If he dared show his face on your land – and I'm certain he won't – people will assume his condition is why you need a replacement.

Mrs. Kestrel tried to talk with her daughter when Vivien arrived home from the Malfoys earlier than expected, but the younger witch was in no mood for conversation. The mother wisely realized would be inappropriate to tell her daughter, "I told you so." Mrs. Kestrel had half-hoped she would be wrong in what she had told Vivien, but knew the ways of the world too well to think that her daughter had really possessed a chance of marriage to a Malfoy.

"How was your stay with–"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"Did Kitty prove a good companion?"

"She was fine."

"You ate well?"

"Yes."

"Is there anything special you would like for dinner tonight? I'm certain it won't be as elegant as you've had, but I'm very glad you're home."

"No. Nothing. I'm not hungry."

"The Malfoys–"

"I never want to hear the name Malfoy again."

Concerns for Miss Kelly preoccupied Mr. Malfoy on the ride to his steward's home.

"What happened to the young woman?" Mr. Trotter asked.

"There is little work to do today, so she didn't feel it necessary to join us."

"Is it ever necessary for her to accompany you?" Frederick laughed. "But she is a very pleasant companion."

"I was told that my other house guest, Miss Kestrel's friend Miss Kelly, was indisposed and suspect Miss Kestrel is keeping her company."

"Well, I hope her friend feels better soon. I shall miss the luncheon hamper."

Titus Malfoy returned to the Hall in the late morning. He was surprised to find Kitty at work in the stable. "What are you doing here?"

"Working."

"But Matthias told me you had been attacked last night."

"Aye."

"Don't you need time to recover your composure?"

"Wouldn't mind a rest, but horses still need to be fed and taken care of. Can't do that sitting in my room and moping. Work's the best medicine for me."

"I arranged for my retired stableman to return until you were able to resume your duties."

"I'm resuming now."

"Don't be too hasty. I can see bruises on your neck and scratches on your face. A few days of rest might be good for you."

"I don't need any–"

"I will remind you he worked for me many years. There are any number of things he might be able to tell you that would make your life easier. We will also be dining at the March home in a few days."

"Uh… Thank you. I think you said he knew magic?"

"He doesn't know magic, he's a muggle. But like the Slopers he knows about magic and keeps his mouth shut. And while he may not possess your father's knowledge he would be a good man with whom to become acquainted."

"I'll listen. My Da always says you can learn from anyone if you keep your mouth closed and your ears open."

"You appear to have a remarkable father. You can take care of my horse?" The Irish girl nodded. "I assume Miss Kestrel is somewhere about the Hall?"

"No, she's gone."

"Gone? Out riding? Running some errand?"

"Gone as in gone."

Mr. Malfoy looked puzzled. "I don't understand."

"Vivien is gone. Her clothes are gone. Her room is empty."

"She left this morning?"

"I don't know when she left. She wasn't here last night."

The report made no sense. He handed the reins of his mount to the girl and strode to the house. Matthias reported that Kitty had told him Vivien was gone, but he had not verified if it were true. The Slopers confirmed the room was empty. He still went upstairs to look for himself.

He suffered a panic attack when he saw the empty wardrobe. Clarence must have attacked Miss Kestrel before attacking Miss Kelly. He ran back to the stable to talk with Kitty again.

Kitty refused to panic. "Viv could have taken care of herself. 'Sides what would he have done with the hair brushes and all that? He couldn't have taken her, and her stuff, and be trying to rob you out here."

"I'm going to look around. Maybe she's in one of the wagons or carriages."

Kitty sighed, "I'll help you look, but she not here. She's gone."

"It makes no sense for her to leave."

"Don't know that I have sense, but I know what I know – she's gone."

In the early afternoon Kitty was in her room and noticed a piece of paper on the floor that she had overlooked earlier.

_Kitty,  
I'm going back to London. I feel it necessary.  
Please convey my apologies.  
Viv_

Miss Kelly frowned as she read it. Not a word of explanation of any sort. Her best guess was that Vivien had received an owl with some sort of news that had made it necessary for the blond to leave. The fact Vivien had been unwilling to provide any details meant it must be personal. While it provided a mystery worthy of speculation it didn't provide enough information for speculation to be worthwhile. However, it did tell her that she needed to locate her host and assure him that Vivien had not been abducted.

TItus Malfoy initially received the news with a sense of relief in regard to Vivien's safety. Then, like Kitty, he began to wonder what had caused Miss Kestrel to need to return to the City at such an unusual hour and without proper notice. The thought even crossed his mind of going to London and asking if there was anything he could do to aid Vivien in whatever situation had arisen.

Dinner was unusually quiet that evening as each person at the table had his or her own thoughts to preoccupy their minds.

Titus Malfoy resolved to spend more time than necessary with his steward the next day so as not to dwell on his missing house guest.

It proved impossible to keep Vivien from his thoughts. Mr. Trotter inquired again about her absence, and on being told that urgent business had called her home, expressed the hope she would be able to return for a visit.

Why had she left? Had he insulted or offended her in some way as a host? It had appeared to him that the young woman was fond of him.

Checking on his tenants provided no relief to Mr. Malfoy. Apparently the local gossip had transposed the speculation that Vivien was the intended fiancée of Claudius to the speculation that she was the intended fiancée of Titus himself.

"She has returned to London," he told the wife of one tenant. "And she was not my fiancée."

"Beggin' your pardon m'lord. Heard you and her looked right natural together."

* * *

"I don't wish to talk about it," Vivien told her mother again when the question about her early return to the city was repeated.

"When you were here the other day, with that young man–"

"I said, I don't wish to talk about it."

The finery had all been put away. There would be no reason to wear it while in the shop. Patrons expected a shop girl to be dressed plainly so as not to detract from their own apparel. She found herself unable to write to Elizabeth about the change in her fortunes.

"You're casting a pall of gloom over the shop," Mrs. Kestrel complained on Vivien's third day home. "Have you lost the ability to smile at a customer?"

"Sorry. I don't feel like smiling. What would you have me do?"

"Go to the theater. Take the day off and do something for pleasure."

"Going to the theater by myself would only make me feel worse."

"There are some very nice wizards here in Diagon. I've seen a young man at the bookshop–"

"Mother! Please... Having you supply a young man to take me out would make me feel worse than going alone."

"Well something needs to be done."

"I'll feel better in time."

"Well, I hope time comes sooner rather than later," her mother grumbled. _"I should never have let her go to the Malfoys. It only encouraged her foolish dreams."_

* * *

Titus Malfoy paced the floor of the library, feeling quite unlike himself. He came to the conclusion that his mood represented the product of a charm, enchantment, or love potion of some sort, and he did not appreciate being the victim of magic.

Neither his work with Pictish runes or the dark arts would do serve him in his efforts to rid himself of whatever troubled him. He sat at his desk and dipped his pen in ink as he contemplated the different possible sources for his ills. "Spells and curses," he wrote, then paused and thought. He could think of no love curse, but given the agony he experienced he refused to rule it out. On the other hand, if his library contained no reference to a love curse he doubted Vivien could have found one. He had less confidence in his knowledge of other sorts of spells, and wrote the name of a witch to consult on the subject.

Next he wrote "Potions," and sat back to think. He did not believe Vivien had arrived with the ingredients necessary for a love potion, but could not rule it out. She would not have found the necessary materials on hand. She had admitted to doing well in potions. While Miss Kestrel would have had opportunity to add a potion to something he ate or drank it seemed more likely she would have given it to Claudius than to him.

He frowned, what if she had used a memory charm to keep him from recalling that he had been given a potion? Love potions could be very potent, but a good potions master could usually diagnose them and find the appropriate antidote. The potions teacher he knew at Hogwarts had retired and they had brought in a temporary replacement for the last year... Titus thought for a minute, Nicolas Flamel was the man's name... Perhaps he had that wrong. He had read of of a skillful potions instructor at Hogwarts several centuries ago named Nicolas Flamel. Perhaps he was a descendant of... Mr. Malfoy shook his head and tried to concentrate. It didn't matter what the damn name was, or if he was related to some instructor from the past, or if... Titus closed his eyes, leaned back, and drew a deep breath. Letting it out he leaned forward and wrote, "Visit Hogsmeade." He wouldn't be foolish enough to try and diagnose his own ailment, he would visit an expert.

Under that he wrote, "Charms - Consult Prof. Ogden." The charms instructor would be able to tell if a love charm had been cast on him. That evening when they had watched the sunset and she had touched his face, he had certainly felt something at that moment.

Resolved on a course of action he decided to leave immediately. He could not leave immediately, he had plans with his steward for the morrow. He would ride to his steward's home and claim he was feeling indisposed and unable to... If he were truly feeling indisposed would he ride to the home of his steward?

"Damn it!" he cursed and threw down his pen. The fact he could not think clearly showed that he obviously was the victim of some sort of magic and needed a cure.

He rode to the home of his steward and pounded on the door.

"Mr. Malfoy?" his startled employee exclaimed in surprise.

"Will be gone a couple days, just letting you know."

"You didn't need to–" Mr. Trotter began, but Mr. Malfoy had turned after delivering his message and strode back to his horse.

On his return the master of Malfoy Hall went into the library, took down a canister from the mantel on the library fireplace and took out a measure of floo powder.

Flames leapt in the huge fireplace at the Hog's Head and Mr. Malfoy stepped into the crowded public room. Disgusted with himself he closed his eyes and cursed inwardly. It was too late to be making a call on the potions master. He spun on his heel and tossed another pinch of floo powder into the flames and stepped in as startled residents of Hogsmeade speculated on the brief appearance, and disappearance, of their unknown guest.

After a poor night's sleep Titus returned to Hogsmeade the next morning. The Flamels had a small home on the edge of town nearer the school. "Good morning," he introduced himself to the man who opened the door, "my name is Titus Malfoy and I greatly desire to speak to Nicolas Flamel."

"I'm Nicolas Flamel. Titus Malfoy... Malfoy Manor Malfoy or some other branch?"

"Malfoy Hall is my home."

"Hall? Oh, new architecture I suppose. Well come in. Gaius was a good friend. Any descendant is always welcome in my home."

"Gaius? I don't think I–"

"Oh, he was long before your time. A wonderful host. Come in, come in. Must return the hospitality." Mr. Flamel stepped back and gestured for Titus to enter. "We certainly can't match his wine cellar. Still, bit early for that. Anything I can offer you?"

"No, I–"

"Coffee?"

"No. Yes. I... Thank you."

"Perenelle," Nicolas shouted, "a cup of coffee. We have a guest. Baron Malfoy."

"Surely Gaius must be long dead," a voice answered from the back of the house.

"Oh, some descendant."

"Does he want cream and sugar?"

Nicolas turned to his guest, "Well?"

"A little cream, please."

"Cream," he shouted as he pointed to a chair. As his guest sat down Mr. Flamel took one next to it. "Now, you said you desired to speak with me?"

"Yes. I have experienced some symptoms lately which–"

He stopped as a middle-aged woman entered with two cups of coffee on a small silver tray. She stared at him for a moment and turned to her husband, "I don't think he resembles Gaius at all."

"I don't believe there has been a Gaius Malfoy at the Manor in the last two centuries."

"Well, that might have been him," Perenelle agreed. "Or maybe an earlier baron, one does lose track of time."

"Your symptoms," Nicolas reminded him. "That was what you wanted to speak with me about?"

The two men went upstairs to the room where Mr. Flamel did his work and after an hour and a half of purgatives and test potions which left Mr. Malfoy's stomach upset Nicolas Flamel pronounced that his guest gave no indication of being under the influence of any potion. "But I do advise you to avoid any punch which might contain citrus for the next two days."

"Citrus... You mean lemon and limes?"

"Also oranges... I've seen a few more varieties in my travels but those are the ones you might encounter."

"And the reason I should avoid them?"

"One of the test potions. Citrus will result in your turning a brilliant shade of yellow until the next full moon."

"Thank you for your time. I will ask my secretary to write you for a time when you can visit my home."

"Perenelle and I would love to see the manor house again," Nicolas assured him. "Is the tower still standing?"

"Tower? I... It's been gone for more than a century."

"Well, it was a bit drafty."

"If I might beg another favor. I would like to consult with Professor Ogden on the possibility my symptoms represent a charm of some sort. Do you have any idea where I might find him? I don't believe he lives in Hogsmeade."

"No, Cooperton. Can you apparate there?"

"I'm afraid I don't know the location well enough to apparate. Can I use floo powder?"

"I suppose you... Hold on, I know his home. I'll apparate there and grab something for a port key. Half a moment."

A few minutes later Nicolas Flamel was back in the living room of his small house and lay a small pebble on the much stained oak work table. "That will take you outside his house. I'll follow and make introductions."

Mr. Malfoy stretched out his hand for the port key, then hesitated. "Are port keys and apparating safe in Cooperton?"

"It's like Diagon," the potions master assured him. "Smaller, of course, but when Manchester grew around it they put up spells to keep it hidden."

"Thank you," Titus told him and, picking up the pebble disappeared from the room. He had few moments to look around before Nicolas Flamel appeared beside him. If his memory was correct the village of Cooperton had been little more than two streets and, if not an especially desirable location to live was at least respectable. He wasn't certain if there were any wizarding shops in the community. All he could see from where he stood were small, sturdily built brick homes set close together and lining either side of the narrow dirt street.

Suddenly Nicolas Flamel stood beside him, "That one, with the blue shutters." He knocked on the door and a girl too young for admission to Hogwarts opened the door. "Would you please tell Professor Ogden that Professor Flamel and Titus Malfoy are here to see him?"

"Papa," the girl turned and yelled, "A professor someone and Mr. Malfoy are at the door."

"Charlotte, if you keep telling these stories your nose will fall off someday."

"Really, Papa, really."

"Fine. I'm coming. But if they aren't there I won't take 'they disappeared' as an answer and you'll go to bed without your supper." The little girl quickly seized the hand of Nicolas Flamel.

The old man smiled, "Do people disappear often?" he asked.

"Well... no," the child admitted.

Footsteps could be heard moving in the direction of the doorway. "Now Charlotte, how many times must... Oh."

"Sorry to bother you," Professor Flamel apologized. "Had a visitor this morning who fears he might be under some sort of spell. I checked him for potions and found no problem, but he wished to consult with you."

"Titus? Titus Malfoy?" Professor Ogden asked.

"You know each other? Oh, through Claudius, of course."

"He also began teaching charms my final year at Hogwarts." Mr Malfoy commented. The charms professor nodded at the memory. "Would you be able to examine me to see if I have been charmed?"

"I suspect Mrs. Pilton would have me sacked if I said 'no' to a Malfoy."

The three men laughed. "You will excuse me then," Professor Flamel told the pair, but my wife and I had plans."

"Thank you for the introduction," Mr. Malfoy told him and the older man apparated home.

Charlotte had stayed through the conversation. "See Papa, see! Sometimes people disappear!"

"And sometimes little girls have vivid imaginations."

"I seem to recall your children being much older," Titus remarked.

"Charlotte is the baby–"

"I'm not a baby, Papa, I'm eight."

"And much younger than her siblings. Her mother and I call her our wonderful surprise." He turned to his daughter, "Charlotte, go ask your Mama to make some tea and see if there are any biscuits." The little girl nodded and ran off to find her mother as the professor gestured toward the back of the house, "My study is this way. You think you are under a charm of some sort?"

"I'm... I'm not certain. I have been feeling somewhat queer and wonder if an enchantment of some sort might be the cause. Charm discernment is not a common skill and I hoped you might examine me."

"Any particular reason to suspect a charm?" his host asked as they walked down a hallway.

"No, but... I should not say this, but I had a guest recently who is very skilled with charms and–"

"May I ask his name?"

"Her name, Vivien Kestrel."

"Vivien? Well, she certainly has the talent. Sit down in that chair while I find my tools. I can't believe she would use a charm against you. Why do you–"

"I am not thinking clearly these days. I may not be charmed, and she could have had nothing to do with it. Having had a guest skilled with charms put the idea into my head." He watched as the professor took a pair of colored spectacles from a case. "How old a charm can you detect?"

"Depends on the type of charm, and its strength. Also whether you were the active target or a passive recipient. I–"

"Charms was not my best subject," Mr. Malfoy apologized. "Could you remind me?"

"Active, I place a charm on you. Passive, I place a charm on something else and you are exposed to that person or object. If you... Hold on, a couple active charms... One fairly recent." He changed spectacles, trying on three pair before diagnosing, "Very powerful memory charm, I'd say six or seven months ago. The other is more recent, within the last three weeks. A weather charm of some sort. Protection from... given the season, rain?"

"Yes."

"Well, the weather charm shouldn't leave you with any ill-effects, nor should the memory charm. I might be able to break the memory charm. Would you like me to make the attempt?"

"Yes... No, I think not. That was about the time of winter break. Perhaps it is something a father is better off not remembering. It would have nothing to do with my current mood."

"Passive charms can be more subtle. Vivien might have had a reason to use a charm on some thing and–"

"So, if she used a revealing charm, at my suggestion, it might have a residual effect upon me?"

"It is difficult to say. Some charms are so limited in nature they would leave no residual evidence. Other charms... Charms to enhance one's appearance, for example, will leave behind evidence on those around the individual." He laughed, "Not that Miss Kestrel ever had need of an appearance charm. She is quite the beauty."

"She is indeed. Then you might find a number. She attempted charms to gain information on something in my collection while I was present. She also used some sort of charm which compelled those with whom she spoke to tell the truth."

"Do you want me to continue the examination?"

"Yes, please."

The examination lasted several more minutes, but disclosed nothing of importance. "I do not believe you have been enchanted by any sort of charm other than the two I discovered."

"Then I shall cross that off my list of possible causes for unhappiness."

"Are you certain the cause of your unhappiness is magic?"

"Pardon?"

"Could anything with your family, your estate, or your own life be the source for your unease?"

"All of the above," Titus sighed. "Perhaps I sought a source in magic because it would have been easier try and correct. I appreciate your time. Is there anyway I can repay you for your kindness?"

"Well," Professor Ogden licked his lips nervously.

"Tea!" a voice called from the other side of the door.

"My wife," the charms instructor explained and opened the door and offered introductions.

Mrs. Ogden poured two cups and retreated with, "I'll let you finish your work."

"Repay your kindness," Titus reminded his host.

"Yes, well... Might I be allowed to see the charm books in the Malfoy library?"

"I'm afraid our charms collection is very poor, I doubt there is anything you have not seen."

"But your library–"

"My grandfather never had any use for charms - rumor is he couldn't cast one to save his life, so he gave the books on the subject to Hogwarts."

"Ah, that might explain it. I've seen your family bookplate in a number of volumes and imagined they were duplicates of some sort."

"Neither my father nor myself shared his view, but we've not made a concentrated effort to rebuild that portion of the collection, simply purchased common works."

"There are rumors of a secret library that–"

"I wish the rumors would die," Titus sighed, and took another sip of tea. "There are a number of books on the dark arts we keep apart and under lock and key because they could be misused. How that became transformed into an imaginary secret library is unfortunate."

"If they are so dangerous they need to be kept apart would you be better off destroying them?"

"I would consider the destruction of any knowledge a greater sin than the dark arts themselves."

"I... I suppose you are right. I sometimes wonder if..." He paused and stared at his guest. "Oh dear, you do appear to be under some sort of spell. You are changing color!"

"What?" He held up his hand. It had taken on a definite yellow cast, and even as he watched it became more pronounced. "Lemon in the tea?"

"What?"

"Professor Flamel warned me, one of the tests he ran would result in turning me yellow if I consumed anything lemon."

"I'm sorry. I had no idea. Can anything be done?"

"According to him I can wait. The effect will last until the next full moon."

"I'm sorry," Professor Ogden began again. "I didn't–"

"Not your fault. I should have remembered the warning and been more careful."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"If you have a fireplace connected to the floo network I would like to use it to return home. It appears I will not be leaving the house or receiving company for some time."

Gordon Sloper, of course, said nothing when his master arrived home a bright yellow. It was not the place of a servant to question his master's appearance. Matthias looked solicitous and asked if he could be of any help. Claudius, on being assured his father was not ill, laughed at the sight. Mr. Prewett warned Kitty of what had happened and she tried very hard not to stare – which created an unnatural condition when she avoided looking at him at all.

A letter arrived from Elizabeth. Vivien suspected Kitty had forwarded it to her and the bird seemed cross for the wasted flying distance.

_Dear Viv,_  
_Just arrived in Moscow. We will winter at the_  
_home of the archimandrite. Don't ask me what_  
_that means, although I am certain I will learn._  
_He is very high in the Orthodox church and serves_  
_the patriarch, but is also an important figure in the_  
_Russian wizarding community._  
_We are to learn the Yukaghir dialect from an_  
_Orthodox missionary to the people and Professor_  
_Potter has ordered us to be circumspect in our_  
_conversations. The Yukaghir were a very powerful_  
_people, but Russian expansion and Orthodox missions_  
_are fast destroying their culture. He fears that while_  
_the archimandrite is a wizard he is also Russian and_  
_Orthodox and approves the destruction._  
_We will try to learn what we can from the Yukaghir_  
_shamans and the wizarding communities of other_  
_Siberian tribes, but the Russian government is_  
_suspicious of the English in general and anyone_  
_wishing to study the Yukaghir in particular so we dare_  
_not risk offending our host or the expedition may be_  
_terminated before it begins. I have not heard from you_  
_in several days. Is everything all right? I pray you are_  
_enjoying your time with the Malfoys. I depend on you_  
_to keep me informed on important news – such as the_  
_quidditch games this year – for you are my most_  
_faithful correspondent._  
_Love,_  
_Lizzy_

The letter from Mrs. Potter forced Miss Kestrel to summon the nerve to reply to her friend.

_Dear Lizzy,_  
_I so wish you were here so that I could_  
_cry on your shoulder. I fear I've made a_  
_dreadful fool of myself with the Malfoys._  
_I want to crawl under a rock and hide. I am_  
_back in Diagon, I could not bear being at_  
_the Hall a minute longer. I actually left_  
_in the middle of the night! I know it was_  
_rude, but I had to leave before I made an_  
_even greater fool of myself. You and my_  
_mother, and everyone else who told me I_  
_was a fool, has been proven correct. My_  
_mother tries to give me sympathy, but it_  
_it difficult when I sense she feels justified_  
_in her warnings. I know you would cry_  
_with me. Imagining you telling me to be_  
_brave helps me survive at the shop._  
_Viv_

Vivien requested a leave from the shop on the day Claudius came to call for his wardrobe. Her mother granted her request, "You will spend the day walking in Westminster with Sylvester Slughorn and–"

"Mother! Sylvester? What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking I want you to study the styles on the people of fashion. It would be improper for you to be walking by yourself so he will serve as your escort."

"But mother, Sylvester?"

"I am paying him two sickles to spend the day with you. And a girl as pretty as yourself should not need to pay a young man to walk out with her."

"You're paying him? I... I'm sorry. I thought you were trying to encourage an attachment."

That was exactly Mrs. Kestrel's plan, although the fact Sylvester was so mercenary that he required payment made her skeptical if he was worth it. Perhaps he had demanded the silver to pay for a nice lunch that afternoon.

A note arrived from Kitty. It asked if the letter from Elizabeth had arrived and contained a general claim that Miss Kelly's plans to remain in the region and treat animals were going well and several broad hints that the Irish girl would like a long letter explaining Vivien's actions.

Days passed slowly for a bright yellow Titus Malfoy in his home. He thought constantly of Vivien and wondered what he had said or done to upset her, and reminded himself that the difference in their positions actually made it a good thing she had left. But while he could tell himself that on an intellectual level he missed her teasing ways, their quiet picnics and the chance to watch sunsets with her.

The date arrived for Claudius to leave for London. "I wish you could see me off," Claudius told her father before departing.

His father pointed to his still yellow face.

"I almost wonder if you did that just to avoid seeing Peter."

"I would like very much to see you off... I might have even been willing to be introduced to your friend were I able to travel."

Two nights later Titus Malfoy stood outside his home, basking in the rays of the full moon. It felt wonderful to be free of the prison on his own home he reflected, as he returned to the library.

The night was unseasonably chill and a fire burned on the hearth. He turned a chair and glanced at the empty chair to his right. He would have given anything he owned for Vivien to be sitting there. He turned his gaze from the chair and stared into the flames. He felt certain Vivien would accept his proposal, should he ask. _"But she would only marry me for my money and position."_ Would it be so bad to be married for his money? _"I don't want a wife who only sees me in selfish terms!"_ Was he only thinking in selfish terms, wanting a wife who was young and lovely? And, why had she left? Had she accepted what he told her, that she would never been Mrs. Malfoy? Had he hurt her feelings? Was she angry at him? He smiled. She had stood up to him – Miss Kestrel had spirit. Surely she would have told him had he angered her. Had he done something else to offend her? Had Claudius said something?

Mr. Prewett and Miss Kelly had retired hours earlier. He almost considered waking his secretary to hear a voice other than his own as it filled his head. To wake either, however, would have required more truth than he wanted to admit.

He sighed, perhaps he needed a visit to the nursery.

"What is troubling you?" the portrait of his late wife asked as Titus Malfoy dragged a chair over in front of the picture and flopped down in it.

"Why do you assume something is troubling me?"

"Why do you avoid my question? You never come under normal circumstances. Claudius has told me of his plans... I can't imagine you would come at this hour to say he is safely off to Durmstrang."

"He is off. I wish he felt as free to discuss his plans with his living father as he felt to discuss them with a portrait of his dead mother."

"I listen and don't judge."

"I don't judge."

"Perhaps not explicitly. You have very high standards, Titus. You need not say a word and still Claudius can tell when you don't approve of his ideas."

"But—"

"You don't need to rationalize or defend yourself. Everyone who knows you respects your values – but you are a very difficult man to stand up to given the aura of moral certainty about you."

"I don't feel moral," he mumbled.

The portrait laughed, "And that was another of your virtues. Had you been filled with a spirit of self-righteousness you would have been quite insufferable. You demonstrate your virtue by example rather than boring those around with tales of your superiority. At least that is my memory."

"My comment is to emphasize that I don't feel moral now."

"You haven't done something to poor Claudius, have you? You promised him–"

"I keep my word. I simply can't approve of his plans, you know that."

"You don't need to approve. You need to recognize that he can make choices for himself, whether you approve or not. He is now an adult and—"

"I know that!" Titus interrupted. "I am not here to talk about Claudius."

"Then why are you here?"

"I… I suppose I am lonely."

"Lonely? Has that Matthias fellow, the one you wanted to write books with departed?"

"No, he is still here."

"And that queer Irish girl? The one who dressed like a young man?"

Titus managed a smile. "She took your rebuke to heart and dressed more appropriately for a time. I fear she has had a relapse – our stableman left and she asked to perform the duties until I can find someone more suitable. She is dressing, once again, in that disreputable fashion."

"Oh, dear. That is most unusual. Is that what is troubling you?"

"Miss Kelly has become a great favorite of April."

"Indeed?"

"Her father trained her in equine medicine. There was a problem at the March stables and Miss Kelly cured the horses and solved the problem–"

"Good for her!"

"And now April is scheming to keep Miss Kelly in the neighborhood. She even offered a dowry for the girl to marry Claudius."

The portrait laughed. "April is no fool, and if she wants Miss Kelly to stay I am certain she will discover a method."

"I suspect Mr. Prewett finds the young woman fascinating. I am less certain what her feelings might be towards him."

"Hmmm… But you said you were here because of your own sense of loneliness rather than to talk about them. Claudius was often away at Hogwarts and you found ways to amuse yourself with little in the way of company."

"I am lonely now… And why have you asked nothing about Miss Kestrel?"

"Oh, so Miss Kestrel is the cause of your loneliness?"

"I said no such thing. You asked about Claudius, Matthias and Miss Kelly. Why did you say nothing about Miss Kestrel?"

"Because she talked with me and told me she was leaving."

"Damn! Does no one tell me anything?"

The picture smiled, "Such intemperate language, you are deeply moved by her absence."

"I am deeply moved by being ignored in my own home. She spoke with you and not with me?"

"She did not want to face you under the circumstances."

"What circumstances? What made her sneak off in the middle of the night like some thief?"

"I don't believe I am at liberty to share what she told me with another. Why are you so upset by her leaving? Did she steal something?"

"No."

"Did you have hopes of her marrying Claudius."

He shuddered slightly, but visibly, "No."

"Then explain what is troubling you."

"Sparta is much better these days. Miss Kelly sees that he is well exercised."

"That is perhaps the most clumsy attempt to change the subject I have ever heard."

"I thought you would wish to know how—"

"I wish to know why the absence of Miss Kestrel troubles you so."

"It doesn't trouble me, I—"

"Your lies are as clumsy as your attempt to change the subject. And don't tell me that you fear she found you a poor host and your feelings are hurt."

"My wife was never this blunt."

"As you yourself point out, I am not your wife. I am a memory of her. Death removes some of the need to tread carefully on the feelings of others. And I can't recall you ever lying so badly during your marriage. The subject is Miss Kestrel and the fact you want her here."

"I don't want—"

"Titus!" the picture warned sternly.

He sighed, "She would ride with me when I went around the estate to check on the tenants. I enjoyed our conversations. She made me laugh. It had been a very long time since I laughed."

The portrait frowned, "Has it really been so long?"

"Very little since she died… The problems with Claudius, the cares of the estate. It felt good to laugh again."

"Under the circumstances I suppose you could ask her to be your mistress. I—"

"No!" he thundered. "That is outrageous."

"Of course it is," the picture replied in a soothing tone. "You are far too moral. You could ask her to marry you."

"I was married, and her social position, I…"

"Your wife, as you remind me on those few occasions when I speak with you, is dead. If she loved you – as I can assure you she did – she would want you to be happy. If your late wife did not love you it should not concern you what she thought on the subject."

"Miss Kestrel's mother is in trade, a seamstress in Diagon Alley."

"You would let your social position interfere with your happiness? What is the point of being from a good family if it won't allow you to enjoy yourself? Ask the girl to marry you if that is your wish."

"Why, when I wanted to find a suitable bride for Claudius did you label Miss Kestrel an unsuitable candidate, but you are encouraging me to consider marriage?"

"There are different reasons for marriage. You have no reason to wed for financial security. One may marry because of the demands of society. Claudius, had he taken a wife, would have been married to meet the demands of society – and Miss Kestrel does not meet the demands of society. Family obligations dictated your first marriage. Marriage, for love, requires a different set of rules. Now then, I see two reasons to approve your marriage to Miss Kestrel. First, I desire your happiness. The fact she makes you laugh and preoccupies your mind testifies to your emotions. She would make you happy."

"I am too old for her."

"And I believe that is for her to decide rather than you deciding how she is to reject you."

"She won't reject me. She can't reject me. She wanted to marry Claudius and become Mrs. Malfoy."

"Ah, finally the crux of matter. You think you love the girl, but-"

"I never said I thought I loved the girl."

"Much as I enjoy this conversion it would proceed more quickly if you would work on your honesty. You never lied to your wife like that… But perhaps you are lying to yourself. You think you love the girl, but you worry she might only accept a proposal from avarice and not because she actually cared for you."

He frowned and nodded, "Yes."

"Then perhaps I will tell you some of my conversation with the young woman in question."

By the end of the portrait's account Titus was smiling broadly. "Does that release you from some of your fears?" the painting asked.

"Yes, thank you... A moment ago you spoke of two reasons for asking for Miss Kestrel's hand?"

"Oh, yes. For your happiness, and for mine. I want children in the nursery. It appears unlikely that Claudius will produce an heir, and I want the estate to remain with your descendants. When the children have grown and are off to Hogwarts you will move me to the great hall. If the home were to pass to Marcus I know he would relegate me to the dungeon."

"I don't believe Marcus would hold a grudge for that accident."

"He certainly would, and it was no accident."

* * *

Mrs. Kestrel noticed an unusually fine owl among the birds waiting the opening of the shop. _"Man's handwriting,"_ she thought as she broke the seal. She frowned as she read the note and tried to decipher the writer's purpose.

"Anything important?" Vivien asked her mother as the daughter pulled back the drapes to ready the shop for the day.

"Nothing," her mother lied, refolding the letter and putting it on the bottom of the letters to read again after looking at other mail.

At ten Mrs. Kestrel informed her daughter, "You will be in charge of the shop starting at eleven. I have business that requires my attention. I'll be back after visiting Firmin's." She hoped Vivien would simply assume that the business which required her attention was the same as the visit to the button shop.

Never having been to the Wand Club Mrs. Kestrel made the mistake of approaching the front door. The stern-faced man in livery sent her to the side entrance.

An equally important looking wizard at the side entrance demanded to know her name and business with the club.

"Mrs. Kestrel, Mr. Malfoy asked me–"

"Ah, Mrs. Kestrel. We are very pleased to see you." He snapped his fingers and a house elf rushed to be of service, "Please take Mrs. Kestrel to private room C." The man bowed with a flourish as the house elf led the startled woman back into the club.

The creature knocked on a door leading off a dark, quiet hallway.

"Yes?"

"Your guest, Sir."

"Show her in."

The occupant of the room rose as she entered. The large windows meant the room was dazzling bright compared with the shadowy hall. The room was small, with a table which could not have accommodated more than two. "Would you care for lunch?"

"I don't believe so. I am curious why you... Are you Mr. Malfoy?"

"I am."

"I had pictured you as older."

"Thank you. Salad and coffee?"

"No nothing. I do not believe our conversation will be a lengthy one."

"Perhaps you are correct. However, I will ask for a pot of tea." He looked at the house elf, which nodded to show the order had been heard, then backed out of the room and silently closed the door. Mr. Malfoy gestured to a chair at the table and Mrs. Kestrel sat down as he took the second chair.

"You asked to speak with me privately," Mrs. Kestrel reminded him, "and requested I not tell Vivien of the meeting."

"I believe that is the correct form," he answered.

"Correct form for what? Is there a problem connected with my daughter's visit to your home?"

"No. No problem."

"And the reason for this meeting?"

"I want your permission to request your daughter's hand in marriage."

"Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yes."

"Please ask for some wine. I am feeling faint."

He rang a small, silver bell and a house elf knocked on the door within seconds. "Wine, for Mrs. Kestrel," Titus shouted and the creature was gone.

It was back almost as quickly with a glass of wine. "You didn't specify vintage," the elf began in an apologetic manner as Mr. Malfoy snatched the glass from its hand and gave it to Vivien's mother.

"Go," he ordered.

Mrs. Kestrel took a sip. She wished the house elf had been slower to give her more time to think. She took a deep breath, then sighed.

"Perhaps I misunderstood. It sounded like you wished to ask for my daughter's hand in marriage for yourself. Did you mean for your son?"

"No, you were correct in my intentions. I would like to marry your daughter."

"I... I am not certain how to answer your request."

"Your blessing on my proposal would be appreciated."

"I must confess to feeling conflicted. At the beginning of the summer she ordered me to respond with a yes when I was asked if she could become Mrs. Malfoy. She returned from your home unhappy and gave orders that I never mention the name of Malfoy again in her hearing. I want my daughter to be happy."

"As do I," he assured her.

"I am certain you are a sensible man. My daughter is... We are not wealthy. She is pretty and has a head filled with a marriage to a rich wizard. Admiration for beauty on one side, and a desire for security on the other, are a poor recipe for marital bliss."

"Mrs. Kestrel, in the brief time your daughter stayed at my home I discovered a loveliness in her beyond outer beauty. I hope she came to view me as more than the income of my estate."

Vivien's mother drank the last of the wine and set the glass down on the table. "I am in no position to say 'no' to your asking my daughter to marry you. If she says yes, you have my blessing. I have warned you of my concerns, I can do no more."

"I appreciate your candor," he replied. "When may I see her?"

"She is minding the shop this–"

"May I ask her privately?"

"The shop closes this evening at–"

"I would like to ask as soon as possible."

"If you cannot wait, I plan to stop at the Strand and look at buttons. That will take a good hour or more. Do you know my shop?"

"I am not certain if I have been there, but am certain I can find it without difficulty."

* * *

Three women were in Kestrels, although all three might not count as customers. Two witches in early middle age looked at bolts of velvet and discussed fashion, but Vivien could not be certain if they were interested in dresses or simply passing time until some other appointment.

The elderly witch with whom Vivien spoke certainly wanted dresses, and was very particular in what she wanted – which left Vivien in a terrible dilemma. What the woman wanted sounded so hideous Miss Kestrel feared it would reflect badly on the shop if she told anyone where she had obtained them. On the other hand, she appeared just the sort of witch who would complain loudly, and to everyone within hearing, if she did not receive exactly what she demanded at the shop. As Vivien attempted another tactful suggestion the bell on the door rang and she looked up, to see Titus Malfoy enter the shop.

Her heart went to her throat. Why was he here? What did he want? "May... I... help you?" she managed to stammer.

Titus glanced around the shop, suddenly feeling a stranger in a strange land. In his imagination he had entered an empty shop and taken Vivien in his arms as she accepted his proposal. "I... I will wait until you are free."

Now that he was near Vivien he would not leave, but he looked around the shop for something, anything, to distract him until the three women left. A terrible thought entered his mind, what if other customers came in? He had no idea how busy a normal day was in the dress shop. His mind raced through a hundred different methods of clearing the women from the shop, although most – like setting the shop on fire – he dismissed as impractical and easily open to misinterpretation.

"Where is your mind!" the elderly witch snapped at Vivien. "You are paying no attention to my directions."

"I'm sorry, I was–"

"Do not address Miss Kestrel in that tone of voice," Titus warned the woman.

"Young man, I will address the help as..." she turned to scold the newcomer, "as... Are you Mr. Malfoy?"

"I am, and I hope you intended to finish your sentence with a declaration of your intention to treat Miss Kestrel with the good manners and respect she deserves."

"I was at Hogwarts when your father attended..."

"You do not need to interfere," Vivien told him. "Madame wants her dresses a particular way. I should listen to her wishes."

Titus gave serious thought to voicing, _"A woman dressed like that has no business telling you anything. She should listen to you."_ Instead he replied, "You put a charm on my tenants, but I am not allowed to voice an opinion in your shop?"

"No, you aren't. Was there something wrong with the suits for Claudius?"

"Claudius was very pleased. I desire to speak with you."

"I have customers to whom I must attend."

"I... uh... can leave if you wish," the elderly witch offered.

"At Kestrel's we strive to please our clientele. Mr. Malfoy is a very important man, but you were placing an order."

"I can come back," she laughed nervously. "Always heard it was bad luck to anger a Malfoy."

"I have your original directions. I will see that everything is done as you wish."

"No... I will think about what you said... I... I just remembered an appointment." The witch gathered her bag and headed for the door.

Vivien turned to the two witches looking at velvet, "May I help you with anything?"

The women glanced over. Mr. Malfoy was standing behind Vivien's back, and he shook his head 'no' to indicate how they were to answer. "We must be leaving," one said.

"It is late," the other agreed.

Mr. Malfoy smiled and nodded to indicate they had answered well. On occasion it was a very pleasant thing to have an evil reputation, even if it was undeserved.

As the door closed behind them Vivien turned to Mr. Malfoy, her voice reflecting some irritation. "You have driven three customers from my mother's shop."

"I wanted to speak with you."

"You could have waited."

"I did not wish to wait."

"Well you... What do you want?"

He hesitated, "This is a question I've not asked."

"What is a question you've not asked?"

"In my sixth year my father told me I would marry Emma at the end of my seventh year, so–"

"What are you talking about?"

"I've not asked a woman's hand in marriage."

"I don't understand. If you have changed your mind on Claudius I am not–"

"Will you marry me?"

"You?"

"Me."

"I..."

"I have spoken with your mother, and she has granted her permission, if it is what you desire."

After a moment of stunned silence she ordered, "Hold me."

"What?"

"Hold me!" She punctuated her demand by throwing her arms around him and holding him tightly. She began to sob and he put his arms around her, holding her in an equal embrace, but uncertain what the tears meant. "You must think I'm a dreadful person."

"I would not ask you to marry me if I found you dreadful."

"You like me?"

"I love you, and I hope the feeling is reciprocated." She said nothing, simply continued to hold him. "There is a problem," he said gently after a minute.

"My position?"

"No, you haven't said yes to my proposal. I would like to hear you accept it."

"You asked my mother?"

"I did."

"You really love me?"

"Yes."

"I love you so much... I couldn't stand to stay, not knowing what you thought of me, I–"

"Miss Kestrel?"

"Yes?"

"Will you accept my proposal? I fear you are trying to avoid the question."

"I'm sorry... I just... My face is a mess with tears... I don't... Yes. Marrying you would make me the happiest witch in Britain."

"Thank you. May I kiss you now?"

"But I've been crying, my face–"

"I don't care," he told her, and proved it by kissing her.

The four weeks until the wedding were not nearly enough time, in the opinion of Mrs. Kestrel to put a proper trousseau together for her daughter, but her daughter and Mr. Malfoy did not wish to wait. Vivien's mother was more upset by the fact Mr. Malfoy had some muggle woman, a Mrs. March, take Vivien and Miss Kelly to a muggle seamstress for country attire.

"It reflects poorly on my shop if my own daughter is wearing clothes made by someone else!"

"Would you ask a profit if you made my clothing?" Vivien asked.

"Of course not."

"Then take in paying customers until I'm wed. Then you will sell the shop and retire."

"I will not."

"We will discuss that after the wedding."

"We certainly will."

As Vivien had hoped/feared Bishop Ffolkes insisted on performing the ceremony himself, which was held at Reverend Henley's church under special license. Other than clergy only witches and wizards attended the ceremony.

Outside the churchyard was crowded with tenants who appreciated a day off work. Those who who held any sort of grudge against the Malfoy family and were not actually there to celebrate the second marriage of their landlord were there for the whole roast ox, roast boar, pies, and other food and drink he had supplied for the occasion.

As the newly married couple left the church tenants shouted congratulations, and a small girl broke away from her mother and ran for the bride.

"Bessie!" the mother screamed.

A man in the crowd managed to grab Bessie and lifted her off the ground before she could tackle Vivien. "Will you gather eggs with me?" the struggling child shouted.

To the horror of wizarding guests and the little girl's mother, and the amusement of her new husband and the tenants, the pretty witch called, "Yes, Bessie, I will come back and help you gather eggs."

Reverends Henley and Stout remained to revel with their parishioners while the bishop returned to Malfoy Hall and the reception for the invited guests. Matthias Prewett took it upon himself to keep the bishop's glass filled with claret so that any reference his grace might hear to magic would be suitably cloudy in the morning.

Hogwarts was well represented among the guests and an invitation was extended to Mr. Malfoy to take one of the two open chairs on the Board of Governors.

Mr. Malfoy came to an agreement with Yorick prior to the reception. Mr. Malfoy would draw no one's attention to the skull and, should anyone ask a question in regard to it, Yorick would not be referred to as a souvenir, relic, or part of the dark arts collection. In return the skull pledged not to scream obscenities at the guests.

The next several weeks were a whirl of confusion for Vivien as she discovered there were many more responsibilities associated with her new position than she had imagined. She began to better understand Claudius's reluctance to take on the role. (And she hoped he would stop referring to her as his step-mother in his letters and simply call her Viv.)

In addition to country life Titus had responsibilities in the City.

_Dear Lizzy,_  
_Titus introduced me in the court of St. James_  
_yesterday. I met the Princess Victoria. She is_  
_only seventeen and quite shy. I liked her very_  
_much and she liked me and said she would ask_  
_if I could be appointed a lady-in-waiting._  
_Titus tells me it is unlikely to happen. Apparently_  
_it is very political and has little to do with_  
_Victoria's own wishes. He keeps himself from_  
_royal politics, which will remove me as a_  
_candidate. Still, I feel very sorry for her. I find_  
_being Mrs. Malfoy a great responsibility and_  
_have no idea what it would be like to serve as_  
_queen._  
_I am sorry to be so tiresome on this topic._  
_You are my friend and believe me, but I suffer_  
_the question often. I trust you believe I married_  
_Titus because I love him dearly. Other people_  
_will not believe that. They look at me as someone_  
_who married only for money and think he_  
_married me only because I am young and pretty._  
_Perhaps society does not look down upon a man_  
_for marrying a pretty young woman, but I still_  
_fear anyone thinks that his only motive. Should_  
_anyone who writes you question my motivation_  
_you will tell them I love him. He is warm and_  
_gentle and caring, I could not be truly happy with_  
_anyone else._  
_And, while I am repeating myself, I will remind_  
_you that you have not yet promised that your first_  
_visit, when you and Charles return to Britain, will_  
_be a stay for at least a month with me. Yes, as you_  
_wrote, your parents have first claim on you. Of_  
_course you are obliged to stay with family. I will_  
_not call that a visit. I will be very hurt if you accept_  
_any other invitation before my own, so you must_  
_make my home your first call after family. (I laughed_  
_as I underlined 'must'. As Mrs. Malfoy I can issue all_  
_sorts of orders, but not to you. You must regard that_  
_as a very strong please, because I miss you so very_  
_much and long for the day I can see you again and_  
_show you my home.)_  
_Love,_  
_Vivien_

-The End-

* * *

Yukaghir culture was almost wiped out during the 19th century.

The Firmin family manufactured buttons from 1677, often with Strand addresses (including 1836).

Defenders of Victoria's mother, also Victoria, claim that she isolated Victoria from the court as much as possible because King William's numerous illegitimate children suggested immorality. William loved his children and acknowledged them. Others are of the opinion the mother was a manipulative b***h who hoped to control her daughter by keeping her socially ignorant.  
William was the third son of George III and not supposed to become king. The Royal Marriages Act of 1772 said descendants of George II could only marry with royal permission. Since George III had high standards for who he would approve some offspring didn't bother with marriage. William stayed with an Irish actress with the stage name of Mrs. Jordan for twenty years and had ten children with her. They separated in 1811. George, the oldest brother, had several children with mistresses but only one daughter, Charlotte, with the wife he despised. Frederick, number two son, had numerous mistresses and no children with the wife he hated and from whom he separated. In 1817 Charlotte, the only legitimate grandchild of George III died and the remaining sons were pressured to marry and produce heirs. William married in 1818 and loved his wife, but neither daughter survived.  
Son number four, Edward, married a German princess named Victoria in 1818. They had one daughter, Victoria, born in 1819 and Edward died the following year. Victoria (the mother) and her private secretary (and reported lover) John Conroy, hated William and hoped he would die in time that they would serve as regents with access to the royal funds. William managed to hang on until Victoria (the daughter) was 18. Queen Victoria remained estranged from her mother for several years – until Conroy was gone from Britain.

And yes, there was political maneuvering involved in choosing a lady-in waiting, and a scandal or two associated with Victoria's ladies.

Two years after the wedding Bessie moved to Malfoy Manor to work in the nursery. Lessons for the little Malfoys provided her with an education. When the children were older she became Mrs. Malfoy's personal maid and eventually married a squib she met during the family's winters in London.


End file.
